A whistler in a Theatre.
--Monday night a little event occurred at Niblo's Theatre, New York, which will long be remembered by all who were present.
Pending the appearance of the members of the orchestra, who were for some reason behind time, a plainly dressed man in the third tier commenced whistling that peculiarly plaintive melody, "The Last Rose of Summer," with a sweetness and grace quite bewitching.
By degrees the accustomed hum of voices in the parquette boxes ceased, and all eyes were turned upwards in the vain endeavor to trace whence came the mysterious and thrilling strains.--The audience seemed entranced with the strange warbling notes and trifle of the whistler, and perfect quietness reigned throughout the house.
Some of the actors peered from behind the curtain, and even the musicians crept silently into the orchestra.
With the most intricate variations, the whistler finished the air, when a storm of applause broke from the audience, which almost shook the house to the centre.
Again were the shrill and peculiar notes of the whistler heard,--and again was the house reduced to breathless silence.
The strange music ceasing a second time, the orchestra struck up an operatic air, but their music was fairly drowned by the storm of applause.
One of the ushers finally traced out the whistler, and churlishly turned him out of the house.--N. Y. paper.