act of the opera, sung far better than any opera has been sung at the
Academy for years. Pretty ROSE HERSEE--when have we had a voice as pure,
or a manner as charming as hers?--sings in this act, and her tones so
closely resemble those of NILSSON in their exquisite purity, that we
wonder how she has escaped the abuse of that "independent critical
journal," the _Season_, until we notice a middle-aged gentleman sleeping
quietly with a copy of the _Season_ on his lap, and remember that at
NIBLO'S GARDEN the proprietor of the independent critical journal is
permitted to distribute his mental soothing syrup, while at STEINWAY
HALL a rival sheet is the only admitted programme.

And I say--still thinking of NILSSON--to an experienced
theatre-goer,--"Why does WATSON abuse NILSSON?"

And he answers, with the contemptuous, but obviously honest
inquiry--"Who's WATSON?"

Really appalled by the suggestion that there exists a man with soul and
things so completely dead as not to have heard of the great WATSON, I
change my question and ask him: "Why does the _Season_ abuse NILSSON?"

HE.--"The _Season_, my young friend, is a programme paper that is
circulated gratuitously and depends for support upon its advertizing
patronage. A few managers permit it to be circulated in their theatres;
the remaining managers will not admit it. Among the latter are Mr.
WALLACK, and MAX STRAKOSCH. Consequently, the _Season_ abuses WALLACK'S
Theatre and NILSSON'S concerts--asserting that Mr. WALLACK has a
wretched company, and that Miss NILSSON has no voice. The _Season_ is
also a comic paper, and its best joke is its assertion that it is an
'independent critical journal.'"