"We could walk over there from here," Milton said when they reached the sidewalk, and he led the way across town toward Carnegie Hall.
"What for a show is this we are going to see?" Elkan asked. "Also a musical show?"
Milton nodded.
"The best musical show there is," he declared. "Do you like maybe to hear good music?"
"I'm crazy about it," Yetta replied.
"Symphonies, concerti and such things?" Milton inquired.
"Symphonies?" Elkan repeated. "What is symphonies?"
"I couldn't explain it to you," Milton said, "because we ain't got time; aber you would see for yourself. Only one thing I must tell you, Mr. Lubliner—when the orchestra plays you shouldn't speak nothing—Mrs. Lubliner neither."
"I wouldn't open my mouth at all," Elkan assured him solemnly; and a few minutes later Milton seated himself in the last row of the parterre at Carnegie Hall, with Elkan and Yetta—one each side of him.
"So you ain't never been to a symphony concert before?" Milton began, leaning toward Elkan; and, as the latter shook his head, a short, stout person in the adjoining seat raised his eyebrows involuntarily. "Well, you got a big pleasure in store for you," Milton went on; "and another thing I must got to tell you: Might you would hear some pretty jumpy music which you would want to keep time to mit your foot. Don't you do it!"