board the steam ferry-boats, I have heretofore spoken of them. They
infest them from May to November, for very little gain apparently. A
shilling a day per man must be the utmost of their emolument. It is
rather sad to see somewhat respectable old men engaged in this way, with
two or three younger associates. Their instruments look much the worse
for wear, and even my unmusical ear can distinguish more discord than
harmony. They appear to be a very quiet and harmless people. Sometimes
there is a woman playing on a fiddle, while her husband blows a wind
instrument. In the streets it is not unusual to find a band of half a
dozen performers, who, without any provocation or reason whatever, sound
their brazen instruments till the houses re-echo. Sometimes one passes a
man who stands whistling a tune most unweariably, though I never saw
anybody give him anything. The ballad-singers are the strangest, from
the total lack of any music in their cracked voices. Sometimes you see a
space cleared in the street, and a foreigner playing, while a girl--
weather-beaten, tanned, and wholly uncomely in face and shabby in attire
dances ballets. The common people look on, and never criticise or treat
any of these poor devils unkindly or uncivilly; but I do not observe that
they give them anything.

A crowd--or, at all events, a moderate-sized group--is much more easily
drawn together here than with us. The people have a good deal of idle
and momentary curiosity, and are always ready to stop when another person
has stopped, so as to see what has attracted his attention. I hardly
ever pause to look at a shop-window, without being immediately incommoded
by boys and men, who stop likewise, and would forthwith throng the
pavement if I did not move on.


June 30th.--If it is not known how and when a man dies, it makes a ghost