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- change. Then we were escorted to a desk ishere we handed in our. tickets and aooerently the number of the seats were penciled on them. There's no two ways about it, for an up-to-date city,Paris has an awful system of ticket selling in their theatres. Entering the theatre we were taken in tow by an uehereee, who in turn, handed us over to another, she guiding us to our seats. Right here is where we received our baptism of theatre tinning, for when we failed to kick through with a tip - not from intention but from ignorance - both the usherines nut out their mite and demanded a tip for "service". Did we pay it? Sure we did. A rotten custom I know, but apnarently it is exoected and.it was far from our intention to defraud a "hard-working " girl of her "hard earned" money.
The show? Oh, just fairly good, that's all. French revues are very poor affairs in comparison to their English cousins. Poubt- less we would have been able to enjoy it more if we could have followed the French, dialogue. The singing was fair, but the costumes were superb, both in style and coloring. The dancing was good, we finding out later that practically the dancing girls were English, they being in great demand by the theatrical managers.
The show finished about 5.30, and we then taxied down to LTax- evilles, expecting to have an early supper. Discovered when we hit there that suoper was not served before seven o'clock. So feeling that a wash uo wouldn't do us any harm, we walked back to our hotel, meeting there Eddie and Charlie, who had been off on a tour of their own.
Had a good clean up, sat around talking for a while, and left around 6,45 for Maxevilles again. Polished off a dandy supper, starting with Melon glace and topping it off with wild strawberries and cream at a franc and a half a, portion. Nothing's too good for a Tommy when he's on leave.
"Well, where will we go now"? was the question after suoper was over. "How about taking in the Folies Bergere", somebody suggested. Everybody being agreeable we settled our bill, hailed a taxi outside the cafe, end rode in state to the theatre.
There is one thing about these French theatres, big or little, that I don't care for, and that is that they seemingly pay more attention to the bar trade between acts, and even while the show is going on, than they do to the show itself. The Folies Bergere is the most notorious theatre in Paris in that respect. Our seats cost us some six francs each, and passing into the foyer we found ourselves in a large room with a staircase at the other end leading uo to the balcony. An orchestra composed entirely of ladies was tearing off popular airs, a fountain in the center of the room was playing merrily, and seated around the hundred odd small circular tables in the room were civilians and soldiers of ell nationalities drinking with their lady friends.
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