hey look
like a party of Grindoff the miller's men in mourning.

As we approach the gates, the stalls and wares dwindle into
insignificance, until they disappear altogether; and so we pass out of
the city to the picturesque promenades which surround it. Afar off we
hear the booming and occasional squeal of the real Fair. It is not
without its drollery, and, if not equal to "Old Bartlemy" in noise and
rude humour, has a word to say for itself on the point of decency. It
is, however, but child's play after all, and abounds with toys and games,
from a half-penny whistle to an electric machine. Leipsic is now in its
waking hours; but a short time hence her fitful three weeks' fever will
have passed away, and, weary with excitement, or as some say, plethoric
with her gorge of profits, she will sink into a soulless lethargy. Her
streets will become deserted, and echo to solitary footsteps; and whole
rows of houses, with their lately teeming shops, will be black and
tenantless, and barred and locked in grim security. The students will
shine among the quiet citizens; the pigeons will flap their wings in
idleness, and coo in melancholy tones as they totter about the streets;
and the last itinerant player (on the flageolet, of course) will have
sounded his farewell note to the slumbering city.

CHAPTER XIV.

DOWN IN A SILVER MINE.

The sojourner in Leipsic, while strolling through its quaint old streets
and spacious market-place, will be attracted, among other peculiarities
of national costume, by one which, while startling and showy, is still
attractive and picturesque. The wearer is most probably a young man of
small figure and of pallid appearance. He is dressed in a short jacket,
which is black, and is enriched with black velvet. The nether garments
are also black. His head is covered with a black brimless hat, and a
small semicircular apron of dark cloth is tied, not before, but behind.
This is one of the Berg-leute, mountain people; he comes from the
Freiberg silver district, and is attired in the full dress of a miner.

Doubtless, these somewhat theatrically attired mountaineers hold a
superior position to the diggers and blasters of the earth. The dress
is, perhaps, more properly that worn in the mountains, than that of the
miners themselves. Still, even their habiliments, as I afterwards
learned, are but a working-day copy of this more costly model; and the
semicircular apron tied on behind, is m