terruptions of
mechanical vocalization. He possesses an organ, which it is supposed
cannot be impaired by indulgence in the pleasures of the table, and he
always acts as if he wished to put this supposition to the test. When he
orders his breakfast, therefore, he does not look down the _carte_ in
order to see what viands he must avoid, but only to ascertain how many
dishes are likely to be objects agreeable to his palate. _Substantials_
form all his meals. No mild _cafe au lait_, composes the meal which is
to announce that he has commenced his daily labours of mastication.
After a morning's deglutition worthy of the anaconda, he suffers
digestion to prepare him for a walk, while he indulges in piles of
cigars. As this smoking effort is a long one, he is about ready to join
his elegant friend, the tenor, when the latter calls on him to go out
and astound the town. What a majestic stride the heavy, beefy fellow
puts on as he saunters down the street! How his body seems to say--for
his face is void of expression; how his body seems to say; "gentlemen,
you're all very well,--but it won't do; I out-weigh a dozen of you, and
the ladies have to surrender to such a superior weight of metal."

The basso seldom loves the prima donna. He regards her as a very
troublesome lady, who _devils_ him at rehearsals, because he won't sing
in time; on the stage, because she wants to show her importance; and in
the _salon_, because she requires so much attention.

The only wonder is, how he and the delicate, sensitive tenor, persons
presenting such a decided contrast to each other, should live together
on terms of such apparent friendship. The reason, however, is, that the
association is not one arising from choice, but from necessity. Between
the tenor and the baritone, there is a something too much of similarity
in voice and _physique_ to render them just the most inseparable friends
in the world; but in the vast musical gulf between the tenor and the
basso, all professional rivalry is buried.

CHAPTER IV.

Of the Prima Donna.

"Your female singer being exceedingly capricious and wayward, and
very liable to accident."--SKETCH BOOK.

[Illustration]

Every body knows what a prima donna is. She is the _first lady_, and
this is a fact apparently better known to the individual herself, than
to any body else--at least her actions would warrant this inference. She
deems herself more indispensable to an opera than an exec