s shoulders
were sloping, and in proportion to his little body; but when the coat
got on again they were at least eight inches wider, and, as he lifted
his arms to clasp his lady, one saw where the padding ended; it was
absolutely ridiculous and made me laugh in a serious place.

When one looks down at the audience, the women not being in evening
dress gives the coup d'oeil a less festive note, but I think people in
theatres look perfectly awful anywhere, don't you, Mamma? One wonders
where they come from.

This was a play about "Graft," which as far as I can understand
means,--supposing you wanted to be elected a member of the Government,
you could agree with some large contractor, who had influence over
countless votes, to get the order for him to put up a public building
which millions had been voted for; and instead of making it of solid
marble, to face it and fill it up with rubbish, and you and he would
pocket the difference. I think that would be "graft," and there seems
to a lot of it about, judging from the play and the papers; and we were
told some of the splendid buildings in San Francisco showed all these
tricks when they fell down in the earthquake. I should hate to live in
an earthquake country, shouldn't you, Mamma? It could interrupt one in
such awkward or agreeable moments,--and one would feel one ought to be
ready and looking as attractive as possible all the time. It would be
so wearing.

I think English people are stodgy and behind-hand about things. Why
don't they come here and take a few hints before they build any more
theatres? You can't think how infinitely better these are to see in.

The difference in the comic operas to ours is, they have no refinement
or colours or subtleties to please the eye--all is gaudy and blatant.
The "Merry Widow," for instance, could make one weep, it is so vulgar
and changed, especially the end. But if the people prefer it like that
the managers are quite right to let them have what they want.

After the theatre we went, a huge party, to sup at such a funny place
which was all mirrors; and a man at the next table, who was perhaps a
little beyond "fresh," got perfectly furious thinking another man was
staring at him, and wanted to get up and fight him. The lady next him
pulled his sleeve, and had to keep telling him, "Hush, Bob, hush! Can't
you see it's yourself?" "Certainly not!" shouted the man, so loud we
could not help hearing. "I'll fight anyone who says I