on of noise; for besides yelling and hooting,
they beat a variety of native drums, some of which consisted of bits of
board, and others of old tin and copper kettles. Forcing their way
through the noisy throng they reached the inside of the hut, into which
they found that Ailie Dunning and Glynn Proctor had pushed their way
before them. Giving them a nod of recognition, they sat down on a mat
by their side to watch the proceedings, which by this time were nearly
concluded.

The new king--who was about to fill the throne rendered vacant by the
recent death of the old king of that region--was seated on an elevated
stool looking very dignified, despite the rough ordeal through which he
had just passed. When the noise above referred to had calmed down, an
old grey-headed negro rose and made a speech in the language of the
country, after which he advanced and crowned the new king, who had
already been invested in a long scarlet coat covered with tarnished gold
lace, and cut in the form peculiar to the last century. The crown
consisted of an ordinary black silk hat, considerably the worse for
wear. It looked familiar and commonplace enough in the eyes of their
white visitors; but, being the only specimen of the article in the
district, it was regarded by the negroes with peculiar admiration, and
deemed worthy to decorate the brows of royalty.

Having had this novel crown placed on the top of his woolly pate, which
was much too large for it, the new king hit it an emphatic blow on the
top, partly with a view to force it on, and partly, no doubt, with the
design of impressing his new subjects with the fact that he was now
their rightful sovereign, and that he meant thenceforth to exercise all
the authority, and avail himself of all the privileges that his high
position conferred on him. He then rose and made a pretty long speech,
which was frequently applauded, and which terminated amid a most
uproarious demonstration of loyalty on the part of the people.

If you wish to gladden the heart of a black man, reader, get him into
the midst of an appalling noise. The negro's delight is to shout, and
laugh, and yell, and beat tin kettles with iron spoons. The greater the
noise, the more he enjoys himself. Great guns and musketry, gongs and
brass bands, kettledrums and smashing crockery, crashing
railway-engines, blending their utmost whistles with the shrieks of a
thousand pigs being killed, all going at once, full blast, a