Some comic opera choruses, particularly those of the limb-exhibiting kind, have attained to almost equal notoriety with the burlesquers in the "mashing" line. The fact of the matter is that in the branches of the profession where women are employed, not for their artistic qualities, but on account of the plumpness of their limbs and the agreeableness of their entire figure to the male eye, there is so much laxness and so much that is altogether bad, that the ladies of the higher walks of the profession do not always escape, and the "masher," who is always going around seeking what fair females he may devour, frequently dares to approach some of the best women in the profession. Here is a specimen of the work of one of this class; it is a letter received by one of the best and handsomest little ladies the stage ever saw, and whose retirement from the boards was really a great loss to the dramatic art:-- EXCHANGE HOTEL, MONTGOMERY, ALA., ----, 187-. I know I am violating the cold conventionalities of life by addressing you, but if it angers you, the friendly fire which blazes before you will prove a suitable altar upon which you can sacrifice my homage. I never saw you before to-night, but to see you is to be dazed--glamoured with a glare. May I dare to hope that I shall ever stand abashed in your presence, waiting your sweet will to raise my eyes to your dear face in adoration? Tell me that I may follow you through all the world upon my bended knees, to find at last your favor, that I may live in hope upon the memory of your smile, and know that at the last you will be content to let me kneel at your feet and find reward in that alone. Oh, dear heart, let me dream of you until you awaken. Yours, devoted, F. H. M. Can anybody imagine a more glowing and positive piece of idiocy? This would-be "masher" should be taken out in the woods and brained with a five-syllable adjective that he would not be able to identify in the next world. Many actresses refuse to receive letters that are sent to them from strange admirers. Mary Anderson never sees such a letter, although bushels of them are sent to her. And she is only one of hundreds who adopt the policy of rejecting strange letters at sight. Frequently married ladies in the profession are made targets of by the letter-writing brigade of mashers, and more than one head has been artistically mutilated as a return for the "masher's" impertinent pains.