As almost always happens after some ordeal I've been through, I soon got a little belly-laugh relief. For example, the Louisville theater we played in on the way home had a three-piece orchestra that had delusions of grandeur at every performance. They opened the show by playing such high-brow pieces as "Poet and Peasant" and the "Overture" to William Tell. But they had one bad handicap besides their lack of talent. It was very drafty in their pit, and their sheet music was always blowing off the piano stand. When that happened the drummer would carry on with William Tell all by himself, while the piano player and the other musican leaped and scrambled around after their fugitive sheet music.