_Wednesday_.--_Don Giovanni_. ZÉLIE DE LUSSAN as _Zerlina_, very popular. Still a little too like _Carmen_ in appearance. LASSALLE can't be bettered. Great night everywhere. Mlle. MELBA and Mr. EDOUARD DE RESZKÉ taking a little holiday at a concert in Grosvenor Square, where also are Madame PATEY and another EDWARD yclept LLOYD, whom HERR GANZ accompanies with his "_Sons of Tubal Cain_"--no political allusion to the recent Barrow Election. Opera comparatively full. Some _habitués_ look in to see how everything's going on, then go on themselves to Reception in Piccadilly, At Homes elsewhere, M.P.Q.'s Smoking Concert, and various other entertainments. Society winding itself up brilliantly. "Rebellion's dead! and now we'll go to supper." And so we do. "Again we come to the Savoy!" _Thursday_.--_Lucia_ off-night, but everything and everybody "going on" as usual. H.R.H. again at Opera. _Friday_.--_La Favorita_. Breathing time before the great Operatic event of week to-morrow night. _Saturday_.--_Esmeralda_. Too late at last moment to say anything on this splendid subject, save that the Composer was deservedly greeted with a storm--of applause! * * * * * PURELY A MATTER OF BISLEYNESS. PRIVATE R. VAN WINKLE opened his eyes, and, taking up his rusty rifle, marched towards the new ranges. "Dear me!" said he, gazing with amazement at his surroundings, "this is not at all like what I saw when I went to sleep." "No, RIP, it is not," replied _Mr. Punch_, who happened to be in the neighbourhood. He had been watching his sweetest Princess making a bull's-eye at the opening ceremony. "Why, it is twice as large as Wimbledon," continued the astounded warrior. "You are well within the limit," the Sage assented, "and see, there is plenty of space. No fear of damaging any of the tenants of GEORGE RANGER in _this_ part of the country." "No, indeed!" exclaimed Private VAN WINKLE. "Not that I think His Royal Highness had much cause of complaint. The truth is--" "Let bygones be bygones," interrupted _Mr. Punch_. "GEORGE RANGER is no longer your landlord, except, in a certain sense, representing the interests of the Regular Army, and I shall keep _my_ eye upon him in that capacity." "An entirely satisfactory arrangement. But where are the fancy tents, and the luncheon parties, and all the etceteras that used to be so pleasant at Wimbledon?" "Disappeared," returned _Mr. Punch_, firmly. "Bisley is to be more like Shoeburyness (where the Artillery set an excellent example to the Infantry) than the Surrey saturnalia." "And is it to be _all_ work and no play?"