t at the rehearsals. We
found on the contrary that the most rigorous rules were enforced to
forbid entrance to the theatre to any one not a regular member of the
staff. No one else was allowed to pass the porter's lodge. There were
regular dressers provided by the theatre, and my sister was present only
once or twice at rehearsals during my two seasons in Metz and then only
by special request.

The rehearsals for the next day were posted at the stage door. They were
not printed or typed, but written in German script, with chalk on the
blackboard. They would be placed there at six o'clock every evening, and
my sister used to go over to find out for me what they were. She could
not read German script at all, neither could I, very well; so she used
to take paper and pencil and laboriously draw everything on the board,
chorus calls and all, for fear of missing something. Then, letter by
letter, we would puzzle it out, and find out the hours of my rehearsals,
as if they had been written in cipher. She was always present at my
performances.

I had to write, "I beg in the most polite manner for a seat for my
sister for this evening's performance," and drop it into a special box
before half past eleven in the morning. Then in the evening, if there
were a vacant place in the orchestra chairs, she would have it. On
Sundays the house was often _ausverkauft_, sold out, so we generally
bought a seat if I were singing on that night, so as to be on the safe
side. The prices ranged from four marks for box seats, to five cents in
the gallery. The orchestra chairs cost three marks (75 cents), but
nearly every one had an _Abonnement_, or sort of season ticket, which
made them much cheaper. The rates for officers were very low indeed. The
chief cavalry regiments had the boxes between them, and the less
important lieutenants of the infantry or the despised engineers had
seats in the first balcony. Years ago, in the old unregenerate days,
these boxes full of young cavalrymen furnished almost more entertainment
than the stage. The boxes had curtains to be drawn at will, and the
young rascals would order champagne served to them there, and drink
toasts loudly to their favourite singers in the midst of their
performances. Some of the frail fair ones of the town would visit them
behind the drawn curtains, and there were high times generally. This has
all come to an end, gone the road of other equally charming old customs,
and I saw very little