ULRIC. "It 'er is." (_Malignant crash from the orchestra._) RUDOLPH. "ULLERIC, 'tis well. Now thou shall behold our sports." _Enter ballet girls, dressed in red gaiters and torches. They dance the Demon Cancan, waving their torches and scattering the flames. Old Gentleman, in the front row hears such charming little asides as, "Drat you,_ MARY SMITH, _you've burnt my hand." "I'll slap your face, Miss, if you step on my foot again." "O_ NELLY! _my hair's a-coming down."_ Curtain finally falls upon a blaze of light and a bewildering wealth of legs. _Old Gentleman, in front row._ "Well, he! he! that's pretty good; he! he! Devilish pretty girls some of 'em; he! he!" _Virtuous Matron._ "My dear, isn't it shameful. I never saw any thing so disgusting." _Sceptical Husband._ "Then perhaps we'd better go at once." _Virtuous Matron._ "N—no. I'll sit through one more act, and see if it gets any worse." _Fast Young Man._ "They're all padded, you know. You can't feel sure about one of 'em. There were gals in the _Crook_ who used to pad their's from here to here"—(_adds explanatory pantomime._) _Travelled Man, who has been to Paris._ "These girls can't dance, I assure you. Now, at the Châtelet they do these things differently." _Admiring Friend to Travelled Man._ "What spectacles did you see at the Châtelet?" _Travelled Man,_ (who was in Paris only two days, and never saw even the outside of the theatre.) "It was—let me see—Oh! _Moses in Egypt_ was the name of the piece. It was gorgeous; full of Egyptian scenery, and Egyptian dancing girls and things." _Admiring Friend, (with aggravating persistence.)_ "Do you mean Rossini's _Moses_?" _Travelled Man, (quite desperate.)_ "Of course! He's the rival of OFFENBACH, you know. But come, let's go and take something." (_They go, the faith of the Admiring Friend in the Travelled Man's veracity being, however, perceptibly shaken._)