cious expression, and a turn for
man-killing, chirps and warbles away in the sprightly passages of the
_Barbiere_.

[Illustration]

As for the male part of the community, it is perfectly easy to divine
how they will be affected by the appearance of the different "_prime
donne_" who from year to year present themselves for musical honors.
They will always be pleased, but chiefly by those who are rather
attractive in features than in voice. The very young and inexperienced
men just entering into society, denominated "cubs" by the beaux of some
years standing, affect most the prima donna of the sanguinary school,
because she seems more in accordance with the ideas they have derived
from the study of Medea, a work to which they have not long since bid
adieu. They regard the killing of babes as the most tragic of tragedy,
and the actress who can do the thing best, as the most accomplished of
actresses. But the knowing fellows of mature years prefer the pretty
creatures who look so fond and affectionate, in their short peasant
dresses, displaying the delicate little foot and well turned ancle. How
they gather night after night into the parquette, to compare opinions on
the merits of Orsini's soft notes, and the long, beautifully-filled
stockings of the page dress. We once heard an enthusiastic Cuban remark,
when Patti was singing Orsini to Parodi's Lucrezia; "Parodi is the
finest singer I ever heard,--she is the best actress I ever saw; some
few people can appreciate her singing, many more her acting;--but
Patti's legs! Ah! Sir, that is something that everybody can understand."
How delighted the young fellows pretend to be with the wild, bacchanal
song, when in reality they only encore the songstress, in order to have
another opportunity of admiring her pretty knees. Alas, how foolish they
are to throw away admiration on one who takes no more thought of them
than if they never existed; but each one of them supposes that she must
necessarily, be slightly enamoured of himself. The consequence is, that
next morning divers bouquets, with small notes or cards containing a few
amatory words, appended to them, are handed in to the servant, who is
very much out of humour at what has become troublesome from its over
repetition.

The old _habitues_, of course, will not be affected in any way except by
peevishness and petulance, which will drive them into their usual course
of detraction. "Ah!" says old Twaddle; "Pasta--you should ha