Those were the days when the Broadway Theatre was given over to the comic operas in which Francis Wilson and De Wolfe Hopper were the stars, and as both of the comedians were firm friends of Richard, we invariably ended our evening at the Broadway.

Sometimes we occupied a box as the guests of the management, and at other times we went behind the scenes and sat in the star's dressing-room.

I think I liked it best when Hopper was playing, because during Wilson's regime the big dressing-room was a rather solemn sort of place, but when Hopper ruled, the room was filled with pretty girls and he treated us to fine cigars and champagne.
Halcyon nights those, and then on Sunday morning we always breakfasted at old Martin's on University Place eggs a la Martin and that wonderful coffee and pain de menage.

And what a wrench it was when I tore myself away from the delights of the great city and scurried back to my desk in sleepy Philadelphia.

Had I been a prince royal Richard could not have planned more carefully than he did for these visits, and to meet the expense was no easy matter for him.