cognize some melody in the music which comes
irregularly and fitfully from the balcony of the Museum on Market
Street, although it may be broadly stated that, as a general thing,
the music of all museums, menageries, and circuses becomes greatly
demoralized,--possibly through associations with the beasts. So soft and
courteous is this atmosphere that I have detected the flutter of one or
two light dresses on the adjacent balconies and piazzas, and the front
parlor windows of a certain aristocratic mansion in the vicinity, which
have always maintained a studious reserve in regard to the interior,
to-night are suddenly thrown into the attitude of familiar disclosure. A
few young people are strolling up the street with a lounging step which
is quite a relief to that usual brisk, business-like pace which the
chilly nights impose upon even the most sentimental lovers. The genial
influences of the air are not restricted to the opening of shutters
and front doors; other and more gentle disclosures are made, no doubt,
beneath this moonlight. The bonnet and hat which passed beneath my
balcony a few moments ago were suspiciously close together. I argued
from this that my friend the editor will probably receive any quantity
of verses for his next issue, containing allusions to "Luna," in which
the original epithet of "silver" will be applied to this planet, and
that a "boon" will be asked for the evident purpose of rhyming with
"moon," and for no other. Should neither of the parties be equal to this
expression, the pent-up feelings of the heart will probably find vent
later in the evening over the piano, in "I Wandered by the Brookside,"
or "When the Moon on the Lake is Beaming." But it has been permitted me
to hear the fulfilment of my prophecy even as it was uttered. From the
window of number Twelve Hundred and Seven gushes upon the slumberous
misty air the maddening ballad, "Ever of Thee," while at Twelve Hundred
and Eleven the "Star of the Evening" rises with a chorus. I am inclined
to think that there is something in the utter vacuity of the refrain
in this song which especially commends itself to the young. The simple
statement, "Star of the evening," is again and again repeated with an
imbecile relish; while the adjective "beautiful" recurs with a steady
persistency, too exasperating to dwell upon here. At occasional
intervals, a base voice enunciates "Star-r! Star-r!" as a solitary and
independent effort. Sitting here in my