CHARACTERS. 



759 



thing in the most charming manner. 

 I confess to you, my daar friend, 

 that old bald-pate lately spoke so 



^ well and so ingeniously, that 1 suf- 

 fered nsysflf to be tempted to step 

 before his tube. He then pulled a 

 thread, unperceired, and a centaur 

 passed between my eye and the or- 

 dinary window-glass, which he pro- 



, bably cut out of some book of 

 prints, such as are usually manu- 

 factured at Nuremberg. I suddenly 

 withdrew my head quite ashamed, 

 and sneaked away to make room for 

 another. 



But why should I be ashamed, 

 thought I, as 1 retired ; this daily 

 happens in my own country, where 

 great poets and philosophers, with 

 much baM ling, hold their tubes be- 

 fore our eyes, promising us, God 

 knows what wonders. We are 

 good-natured ; we look into them, 

 and what do we behold ? Some little 

 monster of the puppet-fair. 



But 1 forget that you arc tired of 

 your walk. If the weather re- 

 main fine, wc will continue it to- 

 morrow for an hour; for I assure 

 you, we have may curious and di- 

 verting things yet to see. 



LETTER II. 



This day, my sweet friend, wc 

 pursue our excursion in dry weather, 

 'i'he objects will not always be of the 

 same merry cast as before, and 1 will 

 not answer for it that a tear may 

 not now and then steal into your 

 eye. Just by, we meet with a 

 blind man singing his song in simple 

 and affecting accents. Beside him 

 lies a faithful guide, the shaggy dog, 

 sometimes shaking his bell. Mot 

 far from him sits another blind man, 

 who probably cannot sing: instead 

 of sinirina, a kind of sfage stands 

 Ui-fyre him, OJi vvliitli Stvyfiil bglls 



of various tones are suspended, 

 wiiich he puts in motion with threads. 

 Be does not beg aloud ; but only 

 puts his hand now and then into his 

 hat, to try whether he can grasp 

 the charitable token of some passing 

 benefactor. lie generally draws his 

 hand back empty. 



We do not go far, without en- 

 countering a third poor wretch be- 

 reft of the most valuable of the 

 senses. lie has art old harpsichord 

 placed before him on the Boule- 

 vards, and is thumping a sonata 

 with all his might. Numbers of 

 people stop to hear his performance ; 

 but the pewter cup, fastened ia 

 front of his instrument, seldom re- 

 sounds Avith the boon of pity. 



We scarcely leave him, when we 

 meet a fourth blind man endeavour- 

 ing to touch the heart by means of 

 a fiddle out of tunc. lie plays it 

 walking : his dog fastened by a 

 little chain to a button of his waist- 

 coat, goes cautiously before him. 

 However, I once witnessed how this 

 poor skeleton of a dog was irresisti- 

 bly tempted, by a bone which had 

 been thrown away, to run into a 

 corner, where his unsuspcfting mas- 

 ter was on the point of dashing 

 against the wall all his wealth — his 

 head and his violin. But among the 

 many blind men whrt arc to bo met 

 with in the str;^ets of Paris, singing, 

 playins, or ringing, none gather a 

 more inquisitive crowd round them, 

 than two men who play at jjiquet 

 the live-long day ; not to lose, but 

 to win money: who, with the most 

 wonderful discrimination, feel and 

 name the cards, contrive to interest 

 every one who lias the least idea of 

 the game for some minutes, and, 

 when they retire at night, are aU 

 M'a\s both winners. 



But let us ica\c these blind pco- 



3C4 , pie 



