“Well, when the whole flock is gathered in the goose pastur, the drawin’-room, other little flocks come troopin’ in, and stand, or walk, or down on chairs; and them that know each other talk, and them that don’t twirl their thumbs over their fingers; and when they are tired of that, twirl their fingers over their thumbs. I’m nobody, and so I goes and sets side-ways on an ottarman, like a gall on a side-saddle, and look at what’s afore me. And fust I always look at the galls.
“Now, this I will say, they are amazin’ fine critters are the women kind here, when they are taken proper care of. The English may stump the univarse a’most for trainin’ hosses and galls. They give ‘em both plenty of walkin’ exercise, feed ‘em regular, shoe ‘em well, trim ‘em neat, and keep a beautiful skin on ‘em. They keep, ‘em in good health, and don’t house ‘em too much. They are clippers, that’s a fact. There is few things in natur, equal to a hoss and a gall, that’s well trained and in good condition. I could stand all day and look at ‘em, and I call myself a considerable of a judge. It’s singular how much they are alike too, the moment the trainin’ is over or neglected, neither of ‘em is fit to be seen; they grow out of shape, and look coarse.
“They are considerable knowin’ in this kind o’ ware too, are the English; they vamp ‘em up so well, it’s hard to tell their age, and I ain’t sure they don’t make ‘em live longer, than where the art ain’t so well practised. The mark o’ mouth is kept up in a hoss here by the file, and a hay-cutter saves his teeth, and helps his digestion. Well, a dentist does the same good turn for a woman; it makes her pass for several years younger; and helps her looks, mends her voice, and makes her as smart as a three year old.
“What’s that? It’s music. Well, that’s artificial too, it’s scientific they say, it’s done by rule. Jist look at that gall to the piany: first comes a little Garman thunder. Good airth and seas, what a crash! it seems as if she’d bang the instrument all to a thousand pieces. I guess she’s vexed at somebody and is a peggin’ it into the piany out of spite. Now comes the singin’; see what faces she makes, how she stretches her mouth open, like a barn door, and turns up the white of her eyes, like a duck in thunder. She is in a musical ecstasy is that gall, she feels good all over, her soul is a goin’ out along with that ere music. Oh, it’s divine, and she is an angel, ain’t she? Yes, I guess she is, and when I’m an angel, I will fall in love with her; but as I’m a man, at least what’s left of me, I’d jist as soon fall in love with one that was a leetle, jist a leetle more of a woman, and a leetle, jist a leetle less of an angel. But hullo! what onder the sun is she about, why her voice is goin’ down her own throat, to gain strength, and here it comes out agin as deep toned as a man’s; while that dandy feller along side of her, is singin’ what they call falsetter. They’ve actilly changed voices. The gall sings like a man, and that screamer like a woman. This is science: this is taste: this is fashion; but hang me if it’s natur. I’m tired to death of it, but one good thing is, you needn’t listen without you like, for every body is talking as, loud as ever.
“Lord, how extremes meet sometimes, as Minister says. Here, how, fashion is the top of the pot, and that pot hangs on the highest hook on the crane. In America, natur can’t go no farther; it’s the rael thing. Look at the women kind, now. An Indgian gall, down South, goes most naked. Well, a splendiferous company gall, here, when she is full dressed is only half covered, and neither of ‘em attract you one mite or morsel. We dine at two and sup at seven; here they lunch at two, and dine at seven. The words are different, but they are identical the same. Well, the singin’ is amazin’ like, too. Who ever heerd them Italian singers recitin’ their jabber, showin’ their teeth, and cuttin’ didoes at a great private consart, that wouldn’t take his oath he had heerd niggers at a dignity ball, down South, sing jist the same, and jist as well. And then do, for goodness’ gracious’ sake, hear that great absent man, belongin’ to the House o’ Commons, when the chaplain says ‘Let us pray!’ sing right out at once, as if he was to home, ‘Oh! by all means,’ as much as to say, ‘me and the powers above are ready to hear you; but don’t be long about it.’
“Ain’t that for all the world like a camp-meetin’, when a reformed ring-tail roarer calls out to the minister, ‘That’s a fact, Welly Fobus, by Gosh; amen!’ or when preacher says, ‘Who will be saved?’ answers, ‘Me and the boys, throw us a hen-coop; the galls will drift down stream on a bale o’ cotton.’ Well then, our very lowest, and their very highest, don’t always act pretty, that’s a fact. Sometimes ‘they repudiate.’ You take, don’t you?
“There is another party to-night; the flock is a thinnin’ off agin; and as I want a cigar most amazin’ly, let’s go to a divan, and some other time, I’ll tell you what a swoiree is. But answer me this here question now, Squire: when this same thing is acted over and over, day after day, and no variation, from July to etarnity, don’t you think you’d get a leetle—jist a leetle more tired of it every day, and wish for natur once more. If you wouldn’t I would, that’s all.”