ams in different countries, and in the
manner of folding newspapers, points which are sometimes neglected in
many better theatres. Of course his talents in this direction had a
better chance in the dramatic than in the operatic productions.

It is a curious thing to note in this connection, how archaic the
arrangement of such details remains in operatic performances even on the
best stages. How in "Carmen" for example, the singers must pretend to
drink to _Escamillo_ out of perfectly dry tin cups, instead of using
real wine and glasses, as a quite second-rate dramatic company would do.
How _Butterfly_ and _Suzuki_ are never given real tea to serve to the
_Consul_ or _Yamadori_. Or how the girls in "Thais" bring up their
water-jars out of the well with the outsides quite dry.

Of course in theatres of the Metz class matters of costuming are
simplified, and historical accuracy is not one of the aims. For example,
everything before Christ is done in fur rugs and winged helmets for the
men, and flannel nightgowns and long hair for the women. Any period up
to the thirteenth century is costumed in mantles and gowns of furniture
brocade, after that it is _Alt-deutsch_ (old German), or _Spanisch_
(Shakespearean--mostly black velvet and jet or white satin and silver),
until it turns safely into _Rococo_, which means white wigs. After that
it is all _Modern_, and even the chorus has to supply its own modern
clothes. The men principals have their historical costumes, with the
exception of wigs, tights, and shoes, supplied to them, but the women
must have their own. The collection of men's clothes in an old theatre
is sometimes quite remarkable, some of the suits of a hundred years ago
being actually of the period.

They retain the smells of the period also, many of them; for in a
theatre like that of Metz I don't believe the men's clothes were ever
cleaned. Things which have been worn several times a week for seven
months a year during the past hundred years, accumulate a richness and
variety of odours which must be sniffed to be appreciated--a very
ancient and fish-like smell indeed. I often wished at Metz that I had no
use of my nose, and I have wished it many times since. As _Amneris_, to
force your way for the entrance in the triumph scene, through an
Egyptian populace composed of German Infantrymen, is a squeamish
business at best; but when they are attired in clothes that haven't been
washed for years, it is a feat before