down and rest oursleves; but of the play itself we saw next to nothing, as we did not reach our places until the end of the last act. The Clown sang a comic song, and the Harlequin and Columbine danced beautifully; but we could not enjoy ourselves for thinking of the difficulty we should have to find our way out again after the fall of the curtain, and when all the gas would be turned off. Papa was very angry, and declared he would write to the "Times;" but fortunately we saw in the boxes a gentleman that Papa knew, who was a great friend of the Clown, and came to the Theatre very often, and he took us out with him quite easily, without taking a single wrong turning.