57 



another dancing to the tune, while she presented 

 her money-box to the spectators, and the rest of 

 the Blue girls filling up the chorus, I cannot say 

 much in praise of the black Catalani \ but nothing 

 could be more light, and playful, and graceful, 

 than the extempore movements of the dancing girl. 

 Indeed, through the whole day, I had been struck 

 with the precision of their march, the ease and 

 grace of their action, the elasticity of their step, 

 and the lofty air with which they carried their 

 heads — all, indeed, except poor Britannia, who 

 hung down hers in the most ungoddess-like man- 

 ner imaginable. The first song was the old Scotch 

 air of " Logie of Buchan," of which the girl sang 

 one single stanza forty times over. But the second 

 was in praise of the Hero of Heroes; so I gave the 

 songstress a dollar to teach it to me, and drink the 

 Duke's health. It was not easy to make out what 

 she said, but as well as I could understand them, 

 the words ran as follows : — 



< { Come, rise up, our gentry, 

 And hear about Waterloo * 

 Ladies, take your spy-glass, 

 And attend to what we do ; 

 For one and one makes two, 

 But one alone must be. 

 Then singee, singee Waterloo, 

 None so brave as he ! " 



— and then there came something about green and 

 white flowers, and a Duchess, and a lily-white Pig, 



