Pitteri was _première danseuse_ for more years than it would be quite gallant to recall. Although assuming the chief place in ballet, this famous dancer possessed none of those sylph-like characteristics which are usually associated with the chief of the ballerine. She was a lady of opulent charms and large figure. In those days there was always engaged in the Alhambra production that epicene excrescence, the male ballet-dancer. At the Alhambra it was the duty of this individual to support the figure of Pitteri as she made a semicircle in the air, and to hold her when she assumed those poses which alternated her spells of purely terpsichorean exercise. The man ballet-dancer supporting Pitteri earned his wages whatever they may have been. Sara—known as Wiry Sal—was another favourite of the Alhambra ballet. This lady belonged to the high-kicking, athletic order of Corybantes. She was accompanied by two other high-kickers, and the three became known about town as “the world, the flesh, and the devil.” After the reign of John Baum, the directors of the Alhambra were for ever changing their manager. All sorts and conditions of managers—from William Holland and Joseph Cave up to John Hollingshead—had a try at it. But not one of them seemed able to get along with the Nagles, the Suttons, and the Winders, of the board of directors. One by one these reactionaries died off, and under a reconstructed board and an enterprising and settled management the establishment at present flourishes like a green bay-tree. One of the last occasions on which I visited the Alhambra in my capacity as a member of the Press was on the occasion of Sandow’s appearance at that establishment. He challenged and defeated a “strong man” who was then drawing the town. After the performance we were invited to a supper given in the champion’s honour in a café—the name of which I forget; it stood between the Alhambra and the Cavour—for even in those early days Sandow had a keen appreciation of the value of a _réclame_. Sir Reginald Hanson took the chair on the occasion, and the police paid us a domiciliary visit at one o’clock in the morning. Our names and addresses were solemnly taken down—a ceremony which occupied much time; but we never heard any more of the matter. Sandow has gone far since that frugal entertainment of the London Press.