Never, even if slowly murdered by the orchestra, betray your sufferings by idiotic grimaces, violent contortions and dismal groans. Remember Talleyrand, who could have smiled his unconsciousness even if stabbed in the back.
Never jocosely shout out “Fire!” if a red-haired lady should rustle into a seat in front of you. Incendiarism is the legitimate mission of stump-orators and fire-bugs.
Never bring your opera-glass to bear like a siege-gun, with your lips spread open as over a Barmecides free-lunch. Even a harsh gritting of the teeth, during the operation, is not in the best taste.
Never hold it for a lady to look through, while adjusting her line of vision by the back of her head, and advising her in a hoarse whisper as to the best method for “gunning” her object. Are you at the opera or the race-course?
Never loudly discuss politics, divorce suits or ministerial scandals at the theater or at a concert when the performance is going on. If speech is silver and silence golden, discussion at such times is metallic to annoyance.
Never, if compelled to quit the building before the entertainment is finished, pass up the aisle on all fours, to avoid an interruption. Siamese obsequiousness is out of place in well-bred audiences.
Never, at the close, hump your way boorishly through the well-dressed throngs, or expedite an exit by flying leaps over the backs of the seats. Even a break over the stage would be preferable to this form.
Never, after a brief adjournment to the open air, apologize to the lady under your escort with a profuseness that will render the cloves, burned coffee or smoked herring too apparent on your breath. Better confess at once to a gin-sour, and be done with it. Frankness and rankness rhyme but in materiality where truth is at stake.
Never send flowers to the stage in a market-basket, or bombard a _diva_ with bouquets bigger than a cooking-stove. The language of flowers should appeal to the inner sense.
Never enter a crowded auditorium with your thumbs in the arm-holes of your waistcoat, head thrown back, chin in air, and the stub of a cigar between the teeth. Self-consciousness may be pushed to an extreme.
Never lunch between acts, in full view of audience, on cheap sandwiches, peanuts and ginger-beer, even if you have missed your supper. Secretly tighten your waist-band, and think of Baron Trenck and his fortitude in prison.