A Ballad-Singer is a town-crier for the advertising of lost tunes. Hunger hath made him a wind-instrument; his want is vocal, and not he. His voice had gone a-begging before he took it up, and applied it to the same trade; it was too strong to hawk mackerel, but was just soft enough for "Robin Adair." His business is to make popular songs unpopular,—he gives the air, like a weather-cock, with many variations. As for a key, he has but one—a latch-key—for all manner of tunes; and as they are to pass current amongst the lower sorts of people, he makes his notes like a country banker's, as thick as he can. His tones have a copper sound, for he sounds for copper; and for the musical divisions he hath no regard, but sings on, like a kettle, without taking any heed of the bars. Before beginning he clears his pipe with gin; and is always hoarse from the thorough draft in his throat. He hath but one shake, and that is in winter. His voice sounds flat, from flatulence; and he fetches breath, like a drowning kitten, whenever he can. Notwithstanding all this, his music gains ground, for it walks with him from end to end of the street. He is your only performer that requires not many entreaties for a song; for he will chant, without asking, to a street cur, or a parish post. His only backwardness is to a stave after dinner, seeing that he never dines; for he sings for bread, and though corn has ears, sings very commonly in vain. As for his country, he is an Englishman, that by his birthright may sing whether he can or not. To conclude, he is reckoned passable in the city, but is not so good off the stones.—Whims and Oddities. Second series.
VOYAGE UP THE MISSISSIPPI.
On leaving New Orleans, in ascending the river, the country, still the same continuous flat, is enriched and enlivened by a succession of pretty houses and plantations, with each a small negro town near them, as well as the sugar-houses, gardens, and summer-houses, which give the idea of wealth and industry. For sixty miles the banks present the appearance of one continued village skirted with plantations of cotton, sugar-cane, and rice, for about two miles from the river, bounded in the rear, by the uncultivated swamps and woods. The boat proceeds continually near the shore on one side or the other, and attracts the inhabitants to the front of their neat houses, placed amidst orange groves, and shaded with vines and beautiful evergreens. I was surprised to see the swarms of children of all colours that issued from these abodes. In infancy, the progeny of the slave, and that of his master, seem to know no distinction; they mix in their sports, and appear as fond of each other as the brothers and sisters of one family; but in activity, life, joy, and animal spirits, the little negro, unconscious of his future situation seems to me to enjoy more pleasure in this period of existence, than his pale companions. The sultry climate of Louisiana, perhaps, is more congenial to the African constitution, than to that of the European.
The next morning we arrived at Baton Rouge, 127 miles on our journey; a pretty little town, on the east side, and the first rising ground we had seen, being delightfully situated on a gradual acclivity, from which is a fine view of the surrounding flats. The fine barracks close to it, contain a few companies of troops. We here stopped to take in some ladies, who continued with us till the end of the voyage. To this place the leveé, or artificial banks, are continued on both sides of the river from New Orleans, without which the land would be continually overflowed. From this to Natches (232 miles,) the country is not interesting, consisting principally of dense forest and wilderness, impenetrable to the eye, diversified, however, by the various water fowl which the passing vessels disturb, in their otherwise solitary haunts, and by the number of black and grey squirrels leaping from branch to branch in the trees. The great blue kingfisher, which is common here, is so tame, as scarcely to move, as the boat passes, and we frequently saw, and passed close to large alligators, which generally appeared to be asleep, stretched on the half-floating logs. Several were fired at from the vessel, but none procured. One pair that I saw together, must have been each upwards of twelve feet long.
Natches is a pleasantly situated town, or rather a steep hill, about half a mile from the landing place, where are many stores and public houses. The boat remained here an hour, and we ascended to the upper town, a considerable place, with a town-house, and several good streets and well-furnished shops, in which we purchased some books. This place exports much cotton, and the planters are said to be rich. It commands a fine prospect over the river and surrounding country. It has been tried as a summer residence by some of the inhabitants of New Orleans, but the scourges of this part of America (fever and ague) extend their ravages for more than 1000 miles higher up. A partial elevation of ground, in an unhealthy district, has been proved to be more pernicious, than even the level itself. From hence, to the junction of the Ohio, there is little to interest the stranger, excepting the diversity of wood and water. The ground rises in some places, though with little variety, till you pass the junction of the Ohio, 1253 miles from the sea. Shortly after entering the Ohio, the country begins to improve; you perceive the ground beginning to rise in the distance, and the bank occasionally to rear into small hills, which show their strata of stone, and rise into bluffs, projecting into the bends of the river, shutting it in, so as to produce the effect of sailing on a succession of the finest lakes, through magnificent woods, which momentarily changed their form, from the rapid motion of our boat. It was now full moon, and these scenes viewed during the clear nights, were indescribably beautiful.—Bullock's Journey to New York.
IRISH TWINS.
The Miss Mac Taafs were both on the ground, and both standing enough in profile, to give Lord Arranmore a full and perfect view of their figure, without being seen by them. His first opinion was, that they were utterly unchanged; and that like the dried specimens of natural history, they had bidden defiance to time. Tall, stately, and erect, their weather-beaten countenance and strongly marked features were neither faded nor fallen in. The deep red hue of a frosty and vigorous senility still coloured their unwrinkled faces. Their hair, well powdered and pomatumed, was drawn up by the roots from their high foreheads, over their lofty "systems;" and their long, lank necks rose like towers above their projecting busts; which, with their straight, sticky, tight-laced waists, terminating in the artificial rotundity of a half-dress bell-hoop, gave them the proportions of an hour-glass. They wore grey camlet riding habits, with large black Birmingham buttons (to mark the slight mourning for their deceased brother-in-law): while petticoats, fastened as pins did or did not their office, shewed more of the quilted marseilles and stuff beneath, than the precision of the toilet required: both of which, from their contact with the water of the bog, merited the epithet of "Slappersallagh," bestowed on their wearers by Terence O'Brien. Their habit-shirts, chitterlings, and cravats, though trimmed with Trawlee lace, seemed by their colour to evince that yellow starch, put out of fashion by the ruff of the murderous Mrs. Turner in England, was still to be had in Ireland. Their large, broad silver watches, pendant from their girdle by massy steel chains, showed that their owners took as little account of time as time had taken of them. "Worn for show, not use," they were still without those hands, which it had been in the contemplation of the Miss Mac Taafs to have replaced by the first opportunity, for the last five years. High-crowned black-beaver hats, with two stiff, upright, black feathers, that seemed to bridle like their wearers, and a large buckle and band, completed the costume of these venerable specimens of human architecture: the tout ensemble recalling to the nephew the very figures and dresses which had struck him with admiration and awe when first brought in from the Isles of Arran by his foster mother, to pay his duty to his aunts, and ask their blessing, eighteen years before. The Miss Mac Taafs, in their sixty-first year, (for they were twins,) might have sunk with safety ten or twelve years of their age. Their minds and persons were composed of that fibre which constitutes nature's veriest huckaback. Impressions fell lightly on both; and years and feelings alike left them unworn and uninjured.—The O'Briens, and the O'Flahertys, by Lady Morgan.