On the following morning I came up to the Police Court, which was crowded. Police Captain Short was first called for the prosecution, and testified that the Opera-house was a place of amusement, but that it had been turned into a place of danger every evening since I had been there. Stools and standing spectators were in the main passages, and in case of a panic the consequences would have been most disastrous. Officer O'Connell testified that on the particular night in question there were 57 people standing in one little passage-way having about a dozen small folding stools amongst them. I was then placed on the witness stand, when I stated that I was the manager of the Opera Company, but not of the theatre. I had simply control of the stage, whilst the manager was responsible for the auditorium, and had provided me with the delinquent ushers. The box book-keeper was afterwards placed on the stand, who swore that I had ordered him to sell one-fifth less tickets than the manager had stated the house would hold. The defence only desired to make out the point that I was not the responsible manager. The Judge, however, decided otherwise, and found me guilty. I was to appear the following morning to hear sentence. A heavy fine was imposed. But it was ultimately reduced to 75 dollars, which the Judge, evidently a lover of music, consented to take out in opera tickets. That evening Patti appeared as "Leonora" in _Il Trovatore_. Standing room on the church steps opposite the main entrance to the theatre was again at a great premium, and a force of policemen under Captain Short was early on duty keeping the vestibule clear of loiterers, and allowing none but those who intended to witness the opera to be present. I will not go into details of the performances either of Signor Nicolini as "Manrico," or of Patti as "Leonora." The representation was one unbroken triumph, and, as usual, the stage was piled up with set pieces and flowers. About this time a report was brought to me as to the examination I had caused to be made of the bogus tickets, which could only be recognized after being soaked in water, when it appeared that the real ones consisted of three plies of cardboard and the bogus ones only of two. But even after all this explanation, so disappointed and indignant were those who held the bogus tickets that they insisted, not only upon their money being returned, of which I had never received a penny, but also on their travelling and hotel expenses being repaid them. Many had come hundreds of miles in order to visit the opera. Having arranged to give a concert on the following Thursday at the Pavilion, a large building capable of holding some 8,000 or 9,000 people, and in order to prevent a recurrence of the scenes I had just encountered and the daily trouble experienced throughout this engagement, I resolved to put up the choice of seats to auction.