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STREET SCENES IN WASHINGTON.

The mules were my especial delight; and an hour's study of a constant
succession of them introduced me to many of their characteristics; for
six of these odd little beasts drew each army wagon, and went hopping
like frogs through the stream of mud that gently rolled along the
street. The coquettish mule had small feet, a nicely trimmed tassel of a
tail, perked-up ears, and seemed much given to little tosses of the
head, affected skips and prances; and, if he wore the bells, or were
bedizened with a bit of finery, put on as many airs as any belle. The
moral mule was a stout, hardworking creature, always tugging with all
his might; often pulling away after the rest had stopped, laboring under
the conscientious delusion that food for the entire army depended upon
his private exertions. I respected this style of mule; and, had I
possessed a juicy cabbage, would have pressed it upon him, with thanks
for his excellent example. The histrionic mule was a melodramatic
quadruped, prone to startling humanity by erratic leaps, and wild
plunges, much shaking of his stubborn head, and lashing out of his
vicious heels; now and then falling flat, and apparently dying _a la_
Forrest; a gasp--a squirm--a flop, and so on, till the street was well
blocked up, the drivers all swearing like demons in bad hats, and the
chief actor's circulation decidedly quickened by every variety of kick,
cuff, jerk, and haul. When the last breath seemed to have left his body,
and "doctors were in vain," a sudden resurrection took place; and if
ever a mule laughed with scornful triumph, that was the beast, as he
leisurely rose, gave a comfortable shake, and, calmly regarding the
excited crowd seemed to say--"A hit! a decided hit! for the stupidest of
animals has bamboozled a dozen men. Now, then! what are _you_ stopping
the way for?" The pathetic mule was, perhaps, the most interesting of
all; for, though he always seemed to be the smallest, thinnest, weakest
of the six, the postillion, with big boots, long-tailed coat, and heavy
whip, was sure to bestride this one, who struggled feebly along, head
down, coat muddy and rough, eye spiritless and sad, his very tail a
mortified stump, and the whole beast a picture of meek misery, fit to
touch a heart of stone. The jovial mule was a roly poly, happy-go-lucky
little piece of horse-flesh, taking every thing easily, from cudgeling
to caressing; str