The Operatic Tragedies

On christmas night, a dozen girls piled on to the bed which was the dress circle and sat before the blue and yellow chintz curtains in a most flattering state of expectancy. There was a good deal of rustling and whispering behind the curtain, a trifle of lamp smoke and an occasional giggle from amy who was apt to get hysterical excitement of the moment. Presently, a bell sounded, the curtains flew apart, and the operatic tragedy began.