ny not entirely feigned, as my
bruises can bear witness). The curtain descended slowly amidst
sympathetic sobs and silence--the musicians themselves, deeply
moved, no doubt, with the sorrows of the scene, mournfully resumed
their fiddles, and struck up "ti _ti_ tum _tiddle_ un _ti_ tum
_ti_"--the jolliest jig you ever heard. The bathos was
irresistible; we behind the scenes, the principal sufferers
(perhaps) in the night's performance, were instantly comforted, and
all but shouted with laughter. I hope the audience were equally
revived by this grotesque sudden cheering of their spirits. After
the tragedy a Bristolian Paganini performed a concerto on one
string. Dall declares that the whole orchestra played the whole
time--but some sounds reached me in my dressing-room that were
decidedly _unique_ more ways than one, not at all unlike our
favorite French fantasia--"Complainte d'un cochon au lait qui
reve." But the audience were transported; they clapped and the
fiddle squeaked, they shouted and the fiddle squealed, they
hurrahed and the fiddle uttered three terrific screams, and it was
over and Paganini is done for--here, at any rate. He need never
show face or fiddle here; he hasn't a string (even one) left to his
bow in Bristol. "So Orpheus fiddled," etc.

_Tuesday, July 19th._--Dinner-party at the ---- which ought to have
been chronicled by Jane Austen. I sat by a gentleman who talked to
me of the hanging gardens of Semiramis and what might have been
cultivated therein (hemp perhaps), then of the derivation of
languages--he still kept among roots--and finally of _tea_, which
he told me he was endeavoring to grow on the Welsh mountains. Some
of the table-talk deserved printing _verbatim_, only it was almost
too good to be true, or at any rate believed.

_Wednesday, July 20th._--Charles Mason came after breakfast, and
told us that there was some chance of poor Mr. Brunton's getting
out of prison (into which his creditor has thrust him), for that
the latter had been so universally scouted for his harsh proceeding
that he probably would be shamed into liberating him.

We shall not leave Bristol to-day. The wind is contrary and the
weather quite unfavorable for a party of pleasure, which our trip
by sea to Ilfracombe was to be. It's very disagr