The Oakley herald. [volume] (Oakley, Idaho) 1908-1961, 1913-03-14
DoINGs AT THE OPERA
BY G. s. PHILLIPS.


Have you been to the op'ra?" she
inquired OF the stenographer from
across the hall
"Oh. yes" assented that young per.
son, in accents of whitening scorn
I've been to the op'ra, and l wore
my $500 Paris gown and my Russian
sables and the diamond tarara ] had
such a time getting through the Gus.
toms house, and l went in my new
$4,000 limousine, tool"
Wake up!" commanded Miss Fat
tershall. They'll let you In for less
than that! | went the other night
myself, and, really there's Just as much
fresh air up in the clouds as down in
the parquet. The view was grand. l
could look down into most of the
boxes and see what our very best peo-
pie were wearing. In some cases 1t
did not take long.
There was one woman with a white
feather buster eighteen inches long,
stuck In her hair, who fascinated me.
Did she have a hole cut in the roof
of her automobile, OF did she sit on
Its floor while she was coming, or did
she stick her head out OF the window
all the way, as though she was going
to yell for the police?
II noticed that most of the women
had feather busters of some sort or
other, more or less, fastened to their
coiffures," Miss Fattershall went on,
"apd that vorct hovo hoor u,br ~ N
men were eternally leaving the boxes.
l suppose they stood it as long az
they could and then they had to retire
to the lobby to sneeze. / should think
each of them would slip pair OF
scissors into his vest pocket and snip
of those feathers when they became
troublesome. No matter where the
men sat or how they stretched their
neckB, those aigrettes always struck
them right across the nose.
"One young man kept stretching his
neck to get above the bird OF paradise
that was tickling his countenance, un-
til l became alarmed for fear his
neck would give way under the strain.
But even from a distance / could tell
that he would endure far worse for
the sake of showing the crowd that he
was In Mrs. Bang-Swinger's box.
"The young ones are dreadfully
funny! 1t oozes out all over them that
they are tickled to pieces to demon
strate their social progress. They
seem to be thinking; Two years ago
in the balcony, last year in the par
quet and now here ! am in a box
hooray! Bless their little hearts,!
II saw my boss son and heir, viii.
liam Fare-you-well Pye, in one of the
boxes He was trailing a slim young
person who looked like a pink snake
from where / sat. Unless William
has sworn of since he drifted away
from the mahogany desk father put
in here at the office for him. a pink
snake in his line of vision makes him
feel right at home. Yet she seemed
real fiattered at having him act as
though he had never. laid eyes on
a pretty girl before.
II got kind Of mixed on the op'ra
itself. You see, had read the libretto
carefully, so I'd know what to expect,
and it certainly sounded exciting.
There was the duel between the
rivals, for instance, with Lady
Leonora falling senseless at the furi-
Gus clash OF steel by the two who
hated each other desperately. At
least, that's what the libretto led me
to expect. What happened was that
after the basso had politely waited for
the tenor to finish his warbling about
how he was going to slash him to
swords in the air as though preparing
for the chorus to walk under in a
procession, and Leonora brushed
fly off her ear and gazed into the
wings while the curtain fell.
Then proceeded Miss Fattershall,
when the rivals are trying to abduct
Leonora from the convent the libretto
told how distracted she was and how
she finally yields to the troubadour
who carries her off triumphantly.
Well, | wish you could have seen her
toddle meekly off after him, as though
'NS eOshe W boy q bpOOl vi
thread, and merely wondered who
could be the good looking gentleman
in front of her.
But say! When they come in and
tell the troubadour that his mother
is being burned alive at the stake,
wish you could have seen the way
that man threw his arms gracefully
to heaven and struck attitudes and
tried his voice in different keys and
warbled arias to Leonora. 1t was. to
my mind, a mighty poor imitation of
man rushing to the rescue of his poor
old parent.
III bet he found only about a Thin
bleful of ashes when he got there!
And"
But" interrupted the stenographer
from across the hall, "how about the
music? Wasn't there any music at
the op'ra?"
"Oh, yes" said Miss Fattershall,
hastily. Il forgot that. The music
was perfectly grand, believe MEL
Chicago Daily News.
Wnrfb Considsrino