With the choristers proper we are not here much concerned.  They are not fairly to be classed among “supers,” and they pertain almost exclusively to the lyric stage.  It is to be noted, however, that they are in some sort evidence of the connection that once existed between the Church and the Theatre; the ecclesiastical and the laical drama.  At any rate, the chorus singers often undertake divided duties in this respect, and accept engagements both at the cathedral and the opera-house.  And sometimes it has happened that the discharge of their dual obligations has involved them in serious difficulties.  Thus, some years since, there is said to have been a Christmas spectacle in preparation at the Opera House in Paris.  The entertainment was of a long and elaborate kind, and for its perfect production numberless rehearsals, early and late, dress and undress, were imperatively necessary.  Now the chorus of the opera also represented the choir of Notre Dame.  It was a season of the year for which the Church has appointed many celebrations.  The singers were incessantly running to and fro between the Opera House and Notre Dame.  Often they had not a moment to spare, and punctuality in attending their appointments was scarcely possible, while the trouble of so frequently changing their costumes was extremely irksome to them.  On one occasion a dress rehearsal at the theatre, which commenced at a very late hour, after the conclusion of the ordinary performance of the evening, was so protracted that the time for the early service at the cathedral was rapidly approaching.  The chorus appeared as demons at the opera, and wore the tight-fitting scaly dresses which time out of mind have been invested upon the stage with diabolical attributes.  What were they to do?  Was there time to undress and dress again?  Scarcely.  Besides, was it worth the trouble?  It was very dark; bitterly cold; there was not a soul to be seen in the streets; all Paris was abed and asleep.  Moreover, the door of the sacristy would be ready open to receive them, and their white stoles would be immediately obtainable.  Well, the story goes that these desperate singers, accoutred as they were, ran as fast as they could to Notre Dame, veiled their satanic dresses beneath the snowy surplices of the choir, and accomplished their sacred duties without any discovery of the impropriety of their conduct.  It is true they encountered in their course a patrol of the civic guard; but the representatives of law and order, forming probably their own conclusions as to the significance of the demoniac apparition, are said to have prudently taken to flight in an opposite direction.