e "sells" is the pith
of my present paper.

It so fell out, when Jenny Lind arrived here, about every fool within
five-and-fifty miles ran their heels and brazen faces after the
Nightingale and her carriage wherever she went, from her bed-chamber to
her dinner table, from her drawing-room to the Concert Hall. It took
Barnum and his whole "private secretary" force and equal number of
policemen and servants, besides Stephens himself, of the Revere, and his
bar-keeper, to keep the mob from rushing pell-mell up stairs and
surrounding Jenny as Paddy did the Hessians.

Now and then a desperate fellow got in--had an audience, grinned, backed
down and went his way, tickled as a dog with two tails. Others were
victimized by notes from Barnum (!) or Miss Lind's "private secretary,"
offering an interview, and many of these transactions were "rich and
racy" enough, in all conscience, for the pages of a modern Joe Miller.
But Aunt Nabby Folsom's time was about as rich as the raciest, and will
bear rehearsing--easy.

"Good morning, sir," said a pleasing-looking, neatly-dressed, elderly
lady, to the two scant yards of starch and dickey behind Stephens' slab
of marble at the Revere.

"Good morning, ma'am," responded the _clark_, who, not knowing exactly
who the lady was, _jerked_ down his well-oiled and brushed "wig and
whiskers" to the entire satisfaction of the matronly lady, who went on
to say--

"I wish to see Miss Lind, sir."

"Guess she's engaged, ma'am."

"Well, but I've an invitation, sir, from Miss Lind, to call at 9 A. M.
to-day. I like to be punctual, sir; my time is quite precious; I called
precisely as desired; Miss Lind appointed the time; and----"

"Oh, very well, very well, ma'am," said the _clark_, with a flourish,
"if Miss Lind has invited you----"

"Why, of course she has! Here's her--"

"O, never mind, ma'am; all correct, I presume."

The "pipes" and bells soon had the attendance of a gang of
white-jacketed, polish-faced Paddies, and the elderly lady was
marshalled, double-file, towards the apartments of the Nightingale.

Jenny had but just "turned out," and was "feeding" on the right wing and
left breast of a lark, the leg of a canary, "a dozen fried" humming
bird eggs--her customary fodder of a morning.

The servants passed the countersigns, and the elderly lady was
admitted--the Nightingale, without disturbing the ample folds of her
camel's hair dressing-gown--a present from the Sultan of all the