Jonathan gives a Description of the Theatre, Private Boxes, Drop Scene, &c.--His Ideas of _Miss_ Elssler's Dancing, and Dancing Girls in general--Jonathan mistakes Williams in his Comic Song of "Old Maids and Old Bachelors to Sell," for an Auctioneer who is knocking off "La Belle Fanny," to the Highest Bidder--Jonathan is indignant that she is not his, after so much hard bidding, by winks, &c.--He flings his Bouquet at Fanny's Feet--Jonathan's Visit Behind the Scenes, and his Idea of Things seen there--Gallants Fanny home to the Astor House. DEAR PAR: The man who keeps the door at the Park Theatre didn't seem to know me at fust, but the minit I writ out my name the hull length, and handed it over, curlecues and all, and told him I wanted the Astor House box, he was as perlite as a basket of chips. He handed me over to another chap, who took me up stairs and along a dark entry way, till he ended in a harnsome leetle pen, all curtained off with red silk, with purty mahogany frames that slid up and down over a sort of red pulpit cushion that run round the front side. The feller he shut me up, and I sot down on one of the chairs in the box, and took a gineral survey of the theatre. From where I sot, it looked as if somebody had laid down an allfired big horse-shoe for a pattern, and then built after it one tier of seats above another till they got tired of the fun, and topped off with a young sky all covered over with golden picters and curlecued work. There was a consarned great curtain hung down afore the stage, with a sort of an Injun mound in the middle, and a house built on top of it. A lot of painted fellers hung about the front of the curtain, niggers and Injuns, some a setting down and some a standing up, and looking like human meat-axes gone to sleep. One feller that was squat down with his back leaned agin a post, had something that looked like a bunch of prime onions with the tops on, stuffed inter his bosom, and he held a kind of a short handled frying-pan in his hand as if he meant to cook some and have a smart fry, as soon as he could git tu a fire. I hadn't sot long when the men begun to stream into the theatre like all possessed, with a small sprinkling of the feminine gender, jest enough to take the cuss off and no more. In less than no time the house was jammed chuck full and running over, till I raly felt as if it was wicked to keep so much room all to myself, when the rest was stowed and jammed up so close that you couldn't a hung up a flax seed edgeways between 'em, but think sez I, every one for himself--I know when I'm well off, and that's enough. So I leaned over the cushion, and let one hand hang a leetle over the edge, as independent as if the whole theatre was mine.