who have to listen to them. Then the ladies, or probably some one
lady, will sing, and as she hears her own voice ring and echo
through the lofty corners and round the empty walls, she is
surprised at her own force, and with increased efforts sings louder
and still louder. She is tempted to fancy that she is suddenly
gifted with some power of vocal melody unknown to her before, and,
filled with the glory of her own performance, shouts till the whole
house rings. At such moments she at least is happy, if no one else
is so. Looking at the general sadness of her position, who can
grudge her such happiness?

And then the children--babies, I should say if I were speaking of
English bairns of their age; but seeing that they are Americans, I
hardly dare to call them children. The actual age of these
perfectly-civilized and highly-educated beings may be from three to
four. One will often see five or six such seated at the long
dinner-table of the hotel, breakfasting and dining with their
elders, and going through the ceremony with all the gravity, and
more than all the decorum, of their grandfathers. When I was three
years old I had not yet, as I imagine, been promoted beyond a
silver spoon of my own wherewith to eat my bread and milk in the
nursery; and I feel assured that I was under the immediate care of
a nursemaid, as I gobbled up my minced mutton mixed with potatoes
and gravy. But at hotel life in the States the adult infant lisps
to the waiter for everything at table, handles his fish with
epicurean delicacy, is choice in his selection of pickles, very
particular that his beef-steak at breakfast shall be hot, and is
instant in his demand for fresh ice in his water. But perhaps his,
or in this case her, retreat from the room when the meal is over,
is the chef-d'oeuvre of the whole performance. The little,