ces--a piping tenor
and a soft Spanish _falsetto_. They chanted rhythmically to the clatter
of tongues, the ripple of laughter, and the clash of miscellaneous
cutlery.

An unbidden multitude, gathered from the highways, and the byways,
loitered about the vicinity, patiently--O how patiently!--awaiting our
adjournment. The fandango naturally followed; and it enlivened the vast,
bare chambers of an adjoining adobe, whose walls had not echoed such
revelry since the time when Monterey was the chief port of the Northern
Pacific, and basked in the sunshine of a prosperous monopoly. A good
portion of the town was there that evening. Shadowy forms hovered in the
arbors of the rose garden; the city band appeared and rendered much
pleasing music,--though it was rendered somewhat too vigorously. That
band was composed of the bone and sinew of the town. Oft in the daytime
had I not heard the flageolet lifting its bird-like voice over the
counter of the juvenile jeweller, who wrought cunningly in the
shimmering abalone shells during the rests in his music? Did not the
trombone bray from beyond the meadow, where the cooper could not barrel
his aspiring soul? It was the French-horn at the butcher's, the fife at
the grocer's, the cornet in the chief saloon on the main street; while
at the edge of the town, from the soot and grime of the smithy, I heard
at intervals the boom of the explosive drum. It was thus they responded
to one another on that melodious shore, and with an ambitious diligence
worthy of the Royal Conservatory.

There was nothing to disturb one in the land, after the musical mania,
save the clang of the combers on the long, lonely beach; the cry of the
sea-bird wheeling overhead, or the occasional bang of a rifle. Even the
narrow-gauge railway, that stopped discreetly just before reaching the
village, broke the monotony of local life but twice in the twenty-four
hours. The whistle of the arriving and departing train, the signal of
the occasional steamer--ah! but for these, what a sweet, sad, silent
spot were that! I used to believe that possibly some day the unbroken
stillness of the wilderness might again envelop it. The policy of the
people invited it. Anything like energy or progress was discouraged in
that latitude. When it was discovered that the daily mail per Narrow
Gauge was arriving regularly and usually on time, it began to look like
indecent haste on the part of the governmental agents. The beauty and
the c