scene between a Yankee, who speaks very broken Spanish,
and a lady who speaks Spanish with the approved Cuban accent. It is an
enthusiastic and excitable audience.

The entirely new drama is a complete success, owing to the realistic
performance of the famous star from old Spain. That gentleman is on the
point of breaking a blood-vessel in his effort to impersonate the
convulsive thief; but he is saved by the doctor in the private box, who
is suddenly summoned to the actor's dressing-room. This interesting
incident makes a deep impression upon the sympathising public, and
greatly increases the interest of the drama. Then the curtain is lowered
amidst rapturous applause, and calls for the infirm player, who is
presently led on the stage, supported by one of the company and by the
doctor. In the following act, the star astonishes his audience by a
vivid representation of a detected thief gone mad, and his private
convulsions being still fresh in their memories, many are seen to direct
their gaze towards the doctor's box, in doubt whether that gentleman
will not be required to administer also to a mind diseased. But all
conjecture on this point is presently set at rest by the acting madman
himself, who is duly restored to his senses at the conclusion of the
play.

An interval of from twenty to thirty minutes elapses between each act,
during which the whole audience rise from their places and promenade
around and about the theatre. The ladies betake themselves to the
lobbies to flirt, fan, and refresh themselves with ice 'sorbetes.' The
gentlemen from the pit are everywhere. Some are conferring with friends
in the 'grilles,' or mourning-boxes; some are smoking cigarettes in
spacious saloons provided for smokers; others are in the street drinking
'orchata' or 'bul,' a compound of English beer with iced water and
syrup. The stage itself is, however, their favourite resort. Open doors
give access to that mysterious ground from the front of the theatre, and
the pit public is thus enabled to wander into every nook and corner,
from the traps below to the flies above. The players do not shun their
visitors, but rather court their society, for a friend in front is
considered a desirable acquisition, and half-way towards a reputation as
'favourite;' to say nothing of benefit nights at the end of a season. A
small crowd of Pollos waylay the 'first lady' as she leaves her
dressing-room. As many as conveniently can, enter the leading