“At any rates,” say Nogi, “it must be entirely enjoyous sensation to set in opera and know what they are talking.”
“Let us go and try one,” I snuggest with happy hat.
So we sonter forthly until we observe theater what say “Grand Opera—English Spoken here.” We encroach to door where bull-board pronounce, “Opera Longrin by Hans Wagner, Famus Cyclist.”
Annexed to door-entrance stood one stylish bell-boy who hold slight program in his thumbs.
“All words to opera 25c!” he pronounce distinctually.
“Why must we spent this ¼$ for words, please?” I ask to know.
“So understand what stage-singers say,” report boy containing buttons.
“Do they not say it in English?” I negotiate peevly.
“Not sure,” say Hon. Boy. “I have only been here a week.”
We step inwards and observe opera going ahead amid considerable crashes. I heard “Ouch!” while I set down, but was not sure whether it was orchestra or merely lady I stepped on.