d with a
family of vaulters and stilt-walkers. They were received with a slight
buzz of curiosity, but without that enthusiasm with which the English
are accustomed to recognise, and, not unfrequently, to annoy royalty;
for here

No man cried, God save them.

I now began to make a more minute survey of the preparations for
amusement, for the fete was not yet in its equinoctial splendour. The
most prominent of these were plots of the raised bank on one side, and
at the termination of the principal walk, which were enclosed with
hurdles or frames, a platform being elevated and decorated with
festooned curtains, &c. for an orchestra, and the whole hung round with
illumination lamps. Towards evening, but long before dark, these
enclosures were blazing with variegated splendour; the bands commenced
playing several lively French airs, and the area was occupied with
groups of waltzing and quadrilling votaries. As the evening darkened,
lamps began to glisten in every direction, and the well-lighted cafes
resembled so many Chinese lanterns; and these, aided by the discordant
sounds of scores of instruments, gave the whole scene an air of
enchantment, or rather a slight resemblance to one of its exorcisms. The
effect was, however, improved by distance. Accordingly, I stole through
a solitary shrubbery walk, which wound round the hill, and at length led
me to a forest-like spot, or straggling wood, which flanked the whole of
the carnival. Viewed from hence, it was, indeed, a fantastical
illustration of French gaiety, and it momentarily reminded me of some of
Shakspeare's scenes of sylvan romance, with all their fays and fairy
population.

The English reader who has not witnessed one of the fetes of St. Cloud,
may probably associate them with his own Vauxhall; but the resemblance
is very slight. At one of these entertainments in France, there is much
less attempted, but considerably more effected, than in England; and all
this is accomplished by that happy knack which the French possess of
making much of a little. Of what did this fete consist--a few hundred
lamps--a few score of fidlers, and about as much decoration as an
English showman would waste on the exterior of his exhibition, or
assemble within a few square yards. There were no long illuminated
vistas, or temples and saloons red hot with oil and gas--but a few
slender materials, so scattered and intermixed with the natural beauties
of the park, as to fascinate, and n