gainst Tchaikovsky to my acquaintances of
the hour, because my dislike to him is deep rooted; but I had still to
encounter another modern musician, who sent me home with a headache,
with nerves all jangling, a stomach soured, and my whole esthetic system
topsy-turveyed and sorely wrenched. I heard for the first time Richard
Wagner's _Die Walkuere_, and I've been sick ever since.

I felt, with Louis Ehlert, that another such a performance would release
my feeble spirit from its fleshly vestment and send it soaring to the
angels, for surely all my sins would be wiped out, expiated, by the
severe penance endured.

Not feeling quite myself the day after my experiences with the music
journalists, I strolled up Broadway, and, passing the opera-house,
inspected the _menu_ for the evening. I read, "_Die Walkuere_, with a
grand cast," and I fell to wondering what the word _Walkuere_ meant. I
have an old-fashioned acquaintance with German, but never read a line or
heard a word of Wagner's. Oh, yes; I forget the overture to _Rienzi_,
which always struck me as noisy and quite in Meyerbeer's most vicious
manner. But the Richard Wagner, the later Wagner, I read so much about
in the newspapers, I knew nothing of. I do now. I wish I didn't.

Says I to myself, "Here's a chance to hear this Walkover opera. So now
or never." I went in, and, planking my dollar down, I said, "Give me the
best seat you have." "Other box-office, on 40th Street, please, for
gallery." I was taken aback. "What!" I exclaimed, "do you ask a whole
dollar for a gallery seat? How much, pray, for one down-stairs?" The
young man looked at me curiously, but politely replied, "Five dollars,
and they are all sold out." I went outside and took off my hat to cool
my head. Five good dollars--a whole week's living and more--to listen to
a Wagner opera! Whew! It must be mighty good music. Why I never paid
more than twenty-five cents to hear Mozart's _Magic Flute_, and with
Carlotta, Patti, Karl Formes, and--but what's the use of reminiscences?

I could not make up my mind to spend so much money and I walked to
Central Park, took several turns, and then came down town again. My mind
was made up. I went boldly to the box-office and encountered the same
young man. "Look here, my friend," I said, "I didn't ask you for a
private box, but just a plain seat, one seat." "Sold out," he
laconically replied and retired. Then I heard suspicious laughter.
Rather dazed, I walked slowly t