What A Treat This Was To Every One, Without Forgetting The Seminary Externes (Pupils), With Their Blue Coats And Sashes Of Green Or Of Variegated Tints.

More than one of those lithesome youths came to grief for having rushed away from the Gradus ad Parnassum to those Elysian Fields, ostensibly to hear the band - possibly to cast a sly glance at "sweet sixteen" chatting with the Militaires off duty.

Here, too, was the spot where amateurs came to hear new pieces of music - the latest from London. Durham Terrace was the favoured locality from whence the new waltz - the fashionable march - the latest opera - was launched into city existence; from thence it found its way to the salons of the wealthy: such the history of Di tanti palpiti and other sweet emanations of great masters.

Where, now, are those squads of jolly tars, in navy blue, irrepressible in their humors when on shore, far from the quarterdecks of the trim frigates anchored under Cape Diamond: upsetting the cake- stands, the spruce beer kegs - helping open-handed to the contents the saucy street urchins, or, handing round, amidst the startled wayfarers, pyramids of horse cakes, trays of barley-sugar and peppermints, like real princes dispensing the coin of the realm. Where are those noisy gangs of swaggering raftsmen - those voyageurs from the pays d'en haut, with their glittering costumes - hats festooned with red or blue ribbons, sashes of variegated colors, barred shirts - tightly wedged, three by three, in caleches, like Neapolitans - patrolling the streets - interlarding a French song occasionally with an oath, tolerably profane - at all times to be met, whether in the light of day or the still hours of night.

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