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Updated: May 7, 2025
In earlier times, by which name our aunt used to designate thirty years ago, she and the before-mentioned Herr Sivertsen had been younger. At that time he had already been connected with the machinery, and was, as she said, her benefactor.
A telegram used to be dispatched to her at coffee-time, and it used to consist of the words, "Herr Sivertsen is at the machinery;" for it was he who gave the signal for drawing the curtain up and down and for changing the scenes. From him she used to receive a short and concise description of every piece. His opinion of Shakspeare's "Tempest," was, "Mad nonsense!
The sausage was one of the weightiest reasons why the worthy management refused in future to have any spectators up in the flies. "But I was there seven-and-thirty times," said our aunt, "and I shall always remember Mr. Sivertsen for that." On the very last evening when the flies were still open to the public, the "Judgment of Solomon" was performed, as our aunt remembered very well.
She had, through the influence of her benefactor, Herr Sivertsen, procured a free admission for the Agent Fabs, although he did not deserve it in the least, for he was always cutting his jokes about the theatre and teasing our aunt; but she had procured him a free admission to the flies, for all that. He wanted to look at this player-stuff from the other side.
That was the most memorable evening of her life, and she was glad that she could not see herself, for she would have died with confusion. Her benefactor in the machinery department, Herr Sivertsen, visited her every Sunday, but it was a long time from Sunday to Sunday.
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