I trust I am not _now_ impertinent, however much so I may have been heretofore. I have seen and observed a great deal. My observations have engendered experiences. My experiences have some point to them. And altogether, I think I am entitled to ask a few questions of those whom I have sometimes overlooked, but now address myself to most immediately. I am proud to say that I never belonged to but one mistress. I was of too much value to be exchanged, lost, lightly parted with, or--I feel prouder as I say it--_sold_. Moreover, I was a _gage d'amour_. That fascinating Dr. ----! But though curious, I will be discreet. This sole mistress of mine gave me plenty to do. Many thanks to her for it, since it has given me an insight into much that is wonderful. I am certain she preferred opera to the drama. I saw more of the stage at the first, and more of the audience at the last. I have found much in both to puzzle me. Some things I have solved. As for that which remains, I had hoped to determine for myself, but an unlucky fall from a nail has spoiled my sight. I have been now two months imprisoned in an _escrutoire_. Others must answer my questions. In the first place, I want to know why theatres and opera houses have such curious odors when empty? I have often perceived this fact when our carriage came announced the last of all. And why are the lights turned out when the audience have half-way reached the front doors? What becomes of the bills which are left behind? Do the rag-pickers ever break in? Where do the musicians go to through that little door in the stage? And why does the kettle drummer always glance around the house upon entering with such an air of satisfaction? As if any one cared for _him_! Why does the leader always stop to take a pinch of snuff, while the audience are breathing in their boots and gaiters to catch the first note of the new opera? Why does the fat man with the violoncello always saw upon two strings, and leave the two in the middle to such a contemptuous silence and exile? Why do the front-bench people get up ten minutes before the performances are over, and rush from the house as if the floor was on fire, while the galleries make twice as much noise by crying "hush!" and always stay to hear the speech (if there is any), although they have not paid as much by half as they who ran away? Why does the lover, rushing upon the stage to the embrace of his mistress, stop half way to bow to the ladies in the boxes? And why doesn't the aforesaid mistress box his ears for his impoliteness? And why did she say, just before he came, "Here comes my Alonzo! Hark! I hear his step," when every door upon the stage was shut, and nothing was heard but the confused trampling behind her, which might have been the galloping of donkeys? And why did this same lady wait for him by the side of a rosewood table, covered with satin damask, and ornamented with a Wellington inkstand--and she dressed in a robe of shot-silk, with laces and