cipal dancers,
congregated. One of our countrymen, having been introduced by M. de la
Rochefoucauld to Mademoiselle Bigottini, the beautiful and graceful
dancer, in the course of conversation with this gentleman, asked him in
what part of the theatre he was placed; upon which he replied,
"Mademoiselle, dans un loge rotie," instead of "grillee." The lady
could not understand what he meant, until his introducer explained the
mistake, observing, "Les diables des Anglais pensent toujours a leur
Rosbif."

FANNY ELSSLER

In 1822 I saw this beautiful person for the first time. She was
originally one of the figurantes at the opera at Vienna, and was at
this time about fourteen years of age, and of delicate and graceful
proportions. Her hair was auburn, her eyes blue and large, and her
face wore an expression of great tenderness. Some years after the Duke
of Reichstadt, the son of the great Napoleon, was captivated with her
beauty; in a word, he became her acknowledged admirer, while her
marvellous acting and dancing drew around her all the great men of the
German court. The year following she went to Naples, where a brother
of the King fell desperately in love with her. Mademoiselle Elssler
went soon afterwards to Paris, where her wit electrified all the
fashionable world, and her dancing and acting in the Diable Boiteux
made the fortune of the entrepreneur. In London her success was not so
striking; but her cachucha will long be remembered, as one of the most
exquisite exhibitions of female grace and power ever seen at her
Majesty's Theatre, and in expressiveness, her pantomimic powers were
unrivalled.

CHARLES X. AND LOUIS PHILIPPE

When the father of the present ex-King of Naples came to Paris during
the reign of Charles X., Louis Philippe, then Duke of Orleans, living
at the Palais Royal, gave a very grand fete to his royal cousin. I had
the honour to be one of the party invited, and witnessed an
extraordinary scene, which I think worth relating. About eleven
o'clock, when the rooms were crowded, Charles X. arrived, with a
numerous suite. On entering, he let fall his pocket-handkerchief--it
was then supposed by accident; upon this, Louis Philippe fell upon one
knee and presented the handkerchief to his Sovereign; who smiled and
said, "Merci, mon cher; merci." This incident was commented upon for
many days, and several persons said that the handkerchief was purposely
thrown down to see whether