760 ANNUAL RE G I STER, 1804. 



pie, the sight of whom only dcjcfts 

 those possessed of vision. Thoui;;h 

 the Parisians, steeled by custom, 

 for the most part pass them with in- 

 difference. I often saw eldcr)y wo- 

 men, especially in the evening, who, 

 to judge from their baskets, were 

 cookraaids, and who bysiving alms 

 to the poor blind, no doubt, hoped 

 to stifle the reproaches of their con- 

 sciences for taking' too large a mar- 

 ket-penny. 



Let us rather dire6t our steps to 

 yon musical artist, who by the dex- 

 terity he has acquired really deserves 

 admiration. He alone plays a whole 

 symphony (conceridnfc) upon live 

 instruments at once. With one hand 

 he grasps and holds a double ilageo- 

 let, whose mouth-pieces he con- 

 stantly moves to and fro on his lips ; 

 sometimes, too, he plays both at 

 the same time : with the other he 

 fnigers the harp very dexterously : 

 with one foot he beats a tabor, and 

 with the toes of the other he rattles 

 the Castanet. It sounds very well, 

 you hear ; and tlie poor devil fags 

 as hard as Mademoiselle Maiilard 

 in the great opera, dearly earning 

 his few sous. 



Don't let us pass yon harper 

 Twithout dropping a trifle into his 

 plate. His execution certainly is not 

 the most pleasing ; but the poor 

 young girl who stands by him with 

 her eyes fixed on the ground, sing- 

 ing, constantly singing, is entitled 

 to our mite, because her downcast 

 looks seem to say : " I know very 

 Tuell 1 sing badly, but my father 

 wants bread ! " The two children, 

 who sing a duet on the bridge, do 

 quite the reverse. The song is in- 

 tended to move the heart, and would 

 produce that effe6t if the children 

 did not scjuall so thoughtlessly, and 

 look about iu such au impudent 



manner. Their look and notes only 

 raise the idea that they will one daj 

 become two worthless creatures. 



A group of children to whom I 

 shall not lead you, for fear of giv- 

 ing you too much pain, is much 

 more likely to exite pity. In the 

 Rue Vivienne I have seen, for more 

 than three weeks, yetalways in the 

 evening when it was dark, three 

 wretched children lying in the mud. 

 The eldest, a boy of about ten years, 

 sat reclined against the wall, hold- 

 ing on his lap another w rapped in 

 rags, three years old at farthest, 

 and usually moaning. By his side 

 sat or lay a third symbol oF misery, 

 about live years old. These chil- 

 dren did not beg ; but had the end 

 of a tallow candle placed before 

 them, near which, upon a rag, lay 

 a paper with the following simple 

 and moving inscription : " We have 

 neither father nor mother." Few 

 of tlie passengers remained unmoved, 

 and the street being much frequent- 

 ed, they always obtained a rich 

 harvest. With pleasure I remarked 

 that the soldiers in particular gave, 

 and gave the most. One night I 

 found one of those people deeply 

 affected. He wore large black whisk- 

 ers, which, in wild contrast with 

 the emotion of the muscles of his 

 face, lighted by the glimmer of "the 

 candle, threw their shade upon a 

 tear. He surveyed the group for 

 some minutes in silence ; the pooc 

 little wretch was just whining dole- 

 fully, because it "was cold. The 

 soldier briskly put his hand in his 

 pocket, gave to the eldor boy two 

 pieces of silver coin (I believe two 

 twelve-sous pieces), on condition 

 of his carrying the child home im- 

 mediately ami warming it. He re- 

 peated this condition three or four 

 times, and made the boy as oitexi 



promisQ 



