It is a great sight to see an opera company travelling. The principal singers must have their sleeping-cars and dining coaches, those beneath them put up with sleeping berths merely, while the members of the chorus are crowded like emigrants into an ordinary coach, from out which roll odors of fried garlic and Italian sausage. When their destination is reached the prima donne find carriages in waiting to drive them to the best hotel in the place. The secondary artists may also have carriages, but they go to minor hotels, while the chorus people are left to themselves to seek cheap boarding-houses and do the best they can. Wagon loads of trunks follow the carriages and wagon loads go to the theatre. Sometimes there is scenery. For instance, Mapleson always carries the scenery for "Aida," even to big cities where there are first-class theatres. Hundreds of pieces of baggage are left at the hotels, and hundreds at the theatre. Immediately the troupe arrives the principal artists fall into the hands of the interviewer, and as the tenor and the prima donna and the others, too, are tired, the newspaper man gets very little to write about unless he runs across such a good fellow as Campanini, or happens to meet Charles Mapleson, if it is Her Majesty's Company. Then on the following morning comes the rehearsal. The triumph is the usual sequel. All the young ladies are immediately "mashed" on the tenor, and would willingly follow the example of some New York beauties, who went as a committee of the whole behind the scenes one night to place a wreath of bay leaves on the head of their favorite warbler, only they have amateur tenors of their own by their sides who might not relish such a display of their appreciation of good music. [Illustration: CROWNING A TENOR.] While her Majesty's Opera Company was having a season at the Academy of Music, New York, two years ago, a newspaper man interviewed Col. Mapleson, the impresario, and took a look at the interior of the establishment, exploring many of its mysteries. In the course of the conversation he asked:-- "How many rehearsals do you give a new opera?"