Cherry-Tree Duet, between Suzel and Fritz, great hit. Admirably sung and acted, and vociferously encored. Nay, they would have had it three times if they could, but though Sir DRURIOLANUS sets his face against encores, allowing not too much encore but just encore enough, he, as an astute Manager, cannot see why persons who have paid to hear a thing only once should hear it three times for the same money. No; if they like it so much that they want it again, and must have it, and won't be happy till they get it, then let them encore their own performance of paying for their seats, and come and hear their favourite morçeaux over and over again as often as they like to pay. He will grant one encore no more. Sir DRURIOLANUS is right. Do we insist on Mr. IRVING giving us "To be or not to be," or any other soliloquy, all over again, simply because he has done it once so well? Do we ask Mr. J.L. TOOLE to repeat his author's good jokes—or his own when his author has failed him? No; we applaud to the echo, we laugh till, as Mr. CHEVALIER says, "we thort we should ha' died," but we don't encore the comic jokes, telling situations, or serious soliloquies as rendered by our accomplished histrions.

The Rabbinical-Hat-Beer-Jug.

Were a collection of pictures made of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER in different characters, it would, for interest and variety, become a formidable rival of the CHARLES MATHEWS series now in the possession of the Garrick Club. To-night she is the busy, bustling Caterina, Friend Fritz's housekeeper, who, as she has to provide all the food for their breakfast, and set it on the table, might be distinguished as Catering Caterina. No one now cares to see an Opera without Mlle. BAUERMEISTER in it, whether she appear as a dashing lady of the Court, probably in a riding-habit, or as a middle-class German housekeeper, or as Cupid God of Love, or as Juliet's ancient nurse, or as an impudent waiting-maid, or as an unhappy mother, or as,—well,—any number of characters that I cannot now recall, but all done excellently well. Never have I heard of her being either "sick or sorry." Some few seasons ago I drew public attention to this most useful and ornamental artiste, and now I am glad to see that here and there a critic has awoke to the fact of her existence, and has done her tardy justice. Long may the Bauermeistersinger be able to give her valuable assistance, without which no Covent Garden Opera Company could possibly be perfect.

Bob-Cherry Duet.

As to L'Amico Fritz, I should suggest that it be played in one Scene and two Acts. That this one Scene should be the Exterior of Cherry-Tree Farm (which should be Fritz's, not the Rabbi's) and that instead of lowering the Curtain, the intermezzo—not I venture to opine equal to the marvellous intermezzo in Cavalleria Rusticana—should be played. L'Amico is certain of an encore, and this will give the singers a rest. It could then commence at nine—a more convenient hour to those who would like to hear every note of it, than 8:15, and it would be over by eleven sharp. A nod is as good as a wink to Sir DRURIOLANUS, but all the same, Heaven forefend I should be guilty of either indiscretion in the Imperial Operatorial presence. Thus much at present.

Friday.—"It's the smiles of its AUGUSTUS and the heat of its July"—adapted quotation from "Old Song." "I cannot sing the old song"—except under a sense of the deepest and most unpardonable provocation; and when I do!!—Cave canem, ruat coelum! I bring down the house as Madame DELILAH's SAMSON did. To-night Manon is indeed warmly welcomed. "A nice Opera," says a young lady, fanning herself. "I wish it were an iced Opera," groans WAGSTAFF, re-issuing one of his earliest side-splitters. M. VAN DYCK strong as the weak Des Grieux, but Madame MRAVINA apparently not strong enough. "What made author-chap think of calling her Manon?" asks languid person in Stalls. WAGSTAFF, revived after an iced B.-and-S., is equal to the occasion. "Such a bad lot, you know—regular man-catcher; hooked a man on, then, when he was done with, hooked another man on. Reason for name evident, see?" The Cavalleria Rusticana is the favourite for Derby Night. All right up to now, Sir DRURIOLANUS.

TENNER SONG FOR DERBY DAY.—"He's got it on!"

WHAT OUR ARTIST (THE SMALL AND SUSCEPTIBLE ONE) HAS TO PUT UP WITH.

Miss Binks. "PRAY, MR. TITMOUSE, WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DRAW SUCH IMMENSELY TALL WOMEN?"

Our Artist. "WELL, MISS BINKS, I SUPPOSE IT'S BECAUSE I'M SUCH A TINY LITTLE MAN MYSELF. CONTRAST, YOU SEE!"

Miss Binks. "AH, YES, CONTRAST! THAT IS HOW WE TINY LITTLE WOMEN ALWAYS ATTRACT ALL THE FINE TALL MEN! THAT'S HOW WE SCORE!"

Our Artist. "EXACTLY. I ONLY WISH TO GOODNESS YOU'D ATTRACT THAT VERY FINE TALL MAN AWAY FROM MISS JONES—THEN I MIGHT HAVE A CHANCE, PERHAPS!"

A VERY "DARK HORSE."

["The Country knows ... what it is we desire to do. What the Right Hon. Gentleman (Mr. GLADSTONE) desires to do no human being knows. If we have done our part, as we have done, to clear the issues, all we can ask him is to do his part, to lay before the electorate of this country in the same plain, unmistakable outline, the policy which he desires to see adopted."—Mr. Balfour on Second Reading of Irish Local Government Bill.]

SCENE—The Paddock, before the Great Race. Rising Young Jockey, ARTHUR BALFOUR, mounted on the Crack Irish Horse. Enter Grand Old Jockey, at the moment minus a mount.