Their Majesties were informed of the surprise which was awaiting them in the little theater. The Empress said to Prince Metternich, after dinner, "I hear you have prepared something to amuse us this evening. Do you not wish to go and make your arrangements? We will be ready to join you in half an hour." All of us who were to take part disappeared to dress, and returned to the gallery connecting with the stage in due time. Peeping through the hole in the curtain, we could see the imposing and elegant audience come in and take their seats with much ceremony and calmness. They little thought how impatient we were to begin and yet trembling with nervousness. Their Majesties, the guests, and all the ministers who had stayed for dinner more than filled the theater. It looked, indeed, uncomfortably crowded. At last every one was seated, and the first syllable, "Ex," was played with great success. It represented a scene at Aix-les-Bains. Invalids met (glasses in hand) and discussed and compared their various and seemingly very complicated diseases. They made very funny remarks on the subject of getting their systems in order in view of the possible incidents which might come up during the Exposition of the next year. The Marquis de Gallifet was one of the invalids, and seeing the Minister of the Interior in the audience, looked straight at him and said, "C'est à vous, Monsieur le Ministre, de remédier à tout cela (It is your business, Monsieur le Ministre, to cure all that)," which made every one roar with laughter, though Prince Metternich (our impresario) was very provoked, as he had particularly forbidden any one to address the audience. The Princess Metternich looked very comical dressed as a Parisian coachman, with a coachman's long coat of many capes; she wore top-boots, and had a whip in her hand and a pipe in her mouth, which she actually smoked, taking it out of her mouth every time she spoke and puffing the smoke right into the faces of the audience. She sang a very lively song, the words of which her husband had found time to write for her during the afternoon. It began, "C'est à Paris, qu' ça s'est passé." She cracked her whip and stamped her feet, and must have been very droll, to judge from the screams of delight in the audience. The song was full of quips and puns, and pleased so much that she had to repeat it. The next word was "Position," and acted only by gentlemen. An amateur, or rather a novice, was taking lessons in fencing, in order to defend himself against probable attacks upon him by the barbaric foreigners who next year would invade Paris, and he wished to be prepared sufficiently to resent all their insults. When the curtain came down all the sky came with it, which put the public in great glee. The whole word "Exposition" was what we call "Mrs. Jarley's Wax Works."