"May it be sanctified to you, dear brother!" Every right-minded man will
wish the same blessing to the rebuke of the loud-talking maids and youths
in theatres and concert-halls, whose conversation, however lively, is not
the entertainment which their neighbors have come to hear.

Two or three winters ago the Easy Chair applauded the conduct of Mr.
Thomas, who, at the head of his orchestra, was interrupted in the midst of
a concert in Washington by the entry of a party, which advanced towards the
front of the hall with much chattering and rustling, and seated themselves
and continued the disturbance. The orchestra was in full career, but
Thomas rapped sharply upon his stand, and brought the performance to an
abrupt pause. Then, turning to the audience, he said--and doubtless with
evident and natural feeling: "I am afraid that the music interrupts the
conversation." The remark was greeted with warm and general applause; and,
waiting until entire silence was restored, the conductor raised his baton
again, and the performance ended without further interruption.

The Easy Chair improved the occasion to preach a short sermon upon bad
manners in public places. But to its great surprise it was severely rebuked
some time afterward by Cleopatra herself, who said, with some feeling, that
she had two reasons for complaint. The first was, that her ancient friend
the Easy Chair should place her in the pillory of its public animadversion;
and the other was, that the Easy Chair should gravely defend such conduct
as that of Mr. Thomas. No remonstrance could be more surprising and nothing
more unexpected than that Cleopatra should differ in opinion upon such a
point. To the personal aspect of the matter the Easy Chair could say only
that it had never heard who the offenders were, and that it declined to
believe that Cleopatra herself could ever be guilty of such conduct. Her
Majesty then explained that she was not guilty. She was not of the party.
But it was composed of friends of hers who seated themselves near her, and