ht to have one to herself, and there is a special
repetiteur for the chorus or chorus master besides.

Our ballet was composed of a solo dancer and about sixteen coryphees,
directed by a _Balletmeisterin_ who also shared the leading parts with
the solo dancer. One of the girls,--Irene, was a big handsome creature
who usually danced the boy's parts. She had a little girl of about six,
who had apparently no father. During the second year I was told one day:
"This is Irene's wedding day; will you say something to her?" It
appeared she and her clown husband had been devoted to each other for
years, but had neglected the ceremony as they neither of them could earn
enough alone to support the two. The clown ("August," of course) could
not find an engagement in the theatre and so they had just waited. He
had just returned from a long world tour and now they were to be
married. Every one was delighted.

Last but not least, came the supers, called in Germany _Statisten_, who
held spears in "Aida" and returned victorious in "Faust." They were
drawn from the infantry regiments and received thirty pfennigs (7-1/2c)
a night. They arrived with their _Unteroffizier_ an hour before they
were wanted and were turned into a big room to be made into warriors,
captives, or happy peasantry. The result was sometimes amusing. In
"Aida" they used to put on their pink cotton tights over their
underwear, so that one saw the dark outline of socks and the garters
gleaming through, and they all kept on their elastic-sided military
boots, with the tabs to pull them on by, sticking out before and behind.
Fortunately the audience had but a brief glimpse of them before they
were ranked in a conglomerate mass at the back of the stage. Sometimes
on our walks we would meet these men on sentry duty, or in batches with
their _Unteroffizier_, who would call out, "_Au-gen rechts!"_ (Eyes
right!) and give us the officers' salute with mighty grins of
recognition.

The principals of the opera are usually talented young singers on the
way up, or older singers of some reputation on the way down, with
perhaps a sprinkling of those who have obtained their engagements by
influence. The contracts are usually for from two to three years, and
are not very often renewed. The talented ones go on to better
engagements, and it is "better business" for the theatre to have a
change of principals. Great favourites remain longer unless they get
something better. Many of those