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The past week is quite bewildering in its dizzy whirl of dissipation. Three operas and Buffalo Bill, that wonderful hero of the plains, to say nothing of the oft repeated minstrels, is enough to wake up the oldest inhabitant, who has been in a semicomatose state for the last twenty years or more. Then, too, even the gay butterflies of fashion have had the depressing or exhilerating returns of the election to contend with. The amusement loving public are satiated with minstrelsy, and every household where boys reign supreme will resound with the war cry of Buffalo Bill and his staff for a month to come. The timid housewife shuns the dark corners and by-ways of the household, where her young hopeful in the role of "Sitting Bull" or "Spotted Tail," trips her unsuspecting feet, and scalps her with a convenient broomstick.