204.—VOX POPULI.
The day has passed when a singer could be forced on the public by royal favor, irrespective of the singer's worth or the public's willingness. But in the last century such things were still possible.
In a certain city in France a royal favorite, named Laulaire, was being forced before the public through favor in high places. She was received the first evening with hisses, whistles, and cat-calls. These being prohibited by the governor, the next night the whole audience seemed to be afflicted with an epidemic of catarrh, and the coughing and sneezing during that performance was something wonderful. But the governor had a remedy for catarrh; it was heroic but successful. When some of the audience were removed to prison the rest had a very quick recovery. The next night a young man brought a small dog to the theater with him, on whose tail he would accidentally step, and then the people cried, "Take the animal away!" but with their glances directed toward the singer and not to the diminutive canine. This resulted in more arrests.
The following night the climax came. One of the auditors was so incensed that he threw his boot at the singer. Instructions were then given to the soldiers at the doorways to arrest whoever came out with but one boot on. As it happened, the very first man to appear was minus a shoe. He was at once arrested. But strange to say, the next man also had a shoe missing, and the next, and the next. Every man in the house was in the same plight, and the soldiers were thoroughly disgusted. The next day the singer gave up the contest and left the place.