AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS IMPERATOR, of course, represents "the Government," and Messrs. H. J. LESLIE and HARRIS (CHARLES of that ilk) are "Her Majesty's Opposition," who are to be congratulated on their Pantomime of _Cinderella_ at Her Majesty's Theatre. Having purchased the book,--which must be classed among the "good books" of the season,--I can say decidedly that there is a considerable, though not a material, difference between the Pantomime _Cinderella_ "as she is wrote" by the two pretty men "Messrs. RICHARD and HENRY,"--whose surnames, I am informed, are synonymous with those of a great English theologian and a still greater English astronomer,--and "the Pantomime _Cinderella_" as she is now performed at Her Majesty's. "Cut and run" must ever be the motto of the Playright's and the theatrical Manager's action; but what astonished me, before I consulted the book, was the omission on the stage of the striking dramatic climax,--especially striking, because a clock is involved in it,--of _Cinderella's_ story. Illustration: Portrait of Cinderella "Palmer quae meruit." A Minnie-ture. Could I believe my eyes, when, after a magnificent ball-room scene, where the colours are grouped with consummate skill and taste, I saw the handsome prince Miss ROBINA _remplacante_ of Miss VIOLET CAMERON, lead to her place in the centre of that glittering throng the _petite et petillante Cinderella_ in her Court dress, wearing her little glass slippers (very little slippers, and very little glass), and then, nothing happened, except that the next Scene descended, and hid them from view. But, Heavens! had the Clock in the Palace Yard stopped? Had its works got out of order? Had it followed the example of the Dock and Gasmen, and "struck," by refusing to strike? Ah! "Inventor and Producer," Ah! Mr. H. J. LESLIE, "Ah!" to everyone who had a hand in this sacrilege; "Ah!" on behalf of Messrs. RICHARD and HENRY, who could not have yielded this point except under a strong protest,--please restore this. We would all of us from eight years old (permitted by home licence to go to theatres at night during Christmas holidays), and up to over fifty (compelled to go to look after the others, and delighted to do so)--we would all of us rather hear the clock strike twelve, see _Cinderella_ in rags, running for bare life, see the Prince in despair at the flight of his partner, on whose card his name was down for sixteen more valses and galops, than witness a black-and-white dance, with fans, pretty in itself, and set to very pretty Solomonesque music, but meaningless as regards plot.