are really needed. So sister and I went without any. We had good seats, the third row in the balcony. We said to each other when we got there—it was a matinee—that we bet it was a good show for every seat was taken. It started of kinder quiet for an opera and without music, which we thought was strange, but about the middle of the first act the main lady fell head over heels in love with a fine, big, strapping fellow and it was fine to watch. Presently some old man showed up, the father of the young man, and it appears that Clara Morris had been in love before somewhere and that seemed to spoil the game. About this time we got to snuffling some and finally Adda broke down and cried aloud, and as she came by me I broke down too. I know it must have been bad for other people near us, for some of them got out and left, but we wept right on just the same, and it is awkward crying in the theatre without a handkerchief. I tried to check it between the first and second acts while the orchestra was playing and I told sister that I thought the old man with white hair would finally let them marry; but she sobbed and said in a loud voice she didn’t believe he would, as he
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