sly, and, after
keeping me in conversation for about five minutes, introduced me to
his lady, a very pleasing person. My friend A---- and I were then
introduced to two or three other fashionable ladies of Algiers; and,
engrossed in conversation with these; we strangers were unconscious
of a general movement of the gentlemen towards the farther end of the
room, as a preliminary to the amateur concert. I was quite ignorant of
this Algerian regulation, by which the gentlemen and ladies are
separated as effectually as in a Lutheran church (a fashion,
by-the-bye, we appear to be adopting). Accordingly, on looking up, I
observed, to my infinite chagrin, that I was the "observed of all
observers," and probably was set down as a _bete Anglais_, who knew no
better. The extensive crinoline of the ladies effectually prevented a
retreat in any direction, and I was unpleasantly conscious of the
suppressed titter the fair ones tried to conceal behind their fans. I
endeavoured to summon up all the resources of my London phlegm, to
support me in this ridiculous position; but, unfortunately, I possess
very little of that desirable quality. The fair one with whom I was
conversing evidently felt for the unpleasantness of my situation, and
very good-naturedly kept me talking till the end of the first piece,
when I succeeded in making my escape.

How I inwardly abused the opera they were performing! It was called
"_Le Diable_;" and to me it appeared as though the fiend in question
had no tail--or rather, _no end_--to that appendage, so long did the
time seem. Far be it from me to despise the arts; I admire them in
every shape, except in the compound form of speech: _exempli gratia_,
art-union, art-school, &c. Why, in the name of common sense, can we
not talk English instead of German, and say school of arts, union of
arts, &c.? I suppose we shall soon go a step farther in imitation of
our Germanic neighbours, and call poetry by the appellation of
poet-art. In the last century, it seemed likely, as Johnson said, that
we should babble a dialect of France; in this, there is more danger of
our talking a Teutonic jargon. Let us stick to the middle course--for
our language is essentially half way between the German and the
French, the Teutonic and Romance tongues, and any attempt to
approximate too much to either extreme is simply preposterous.

The next day we had the sirocco; and, to quote the expression with
which I once heard a popular prea