II.

There was a sound of smother’d glee that night, And at the Lyceum was gathered then A crowd expecting something rich and bright The gas shone o’er stalls filled with first-night men; The pitites coughed impatiently, and when Music beneath the stage was heard, the swells Began to fidget in their seats again, And many wished the play had been the “Bells,” For _this_, ’twas feared, would prove the most grotesque of sells.

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