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.

[Illustration:  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.