new school, and it is making rapid progress, so much so, that its influence is being reflected on the old school.' During the conversation, I was asked by the gentleman to witness the young singer's performance, in which request the ladies joined. I had no other course than to accept. Time in Dreamland flies fast, and I soon found myself at one of the Operas together with the Scandinavian gentleman; and there, to my surprise, I found the young singer was a _prima donna_. The act was _Maritana_; she acted the male part of Don Cæsar. The performance went on splendidly, and Act II. was reached. I happened to know the following declamation by Don Cæsar, and when she sang it I was thrilled, because each word sounded as though uttered by our own heroes of times gone by: 'Ah! per pietà, signor, non raddoppiate L'aspro mio duol! Almen mi fosse dato Per grazia di morir come un soldato! Come sul campo il milite Pugnando suol morir, Concedi a me da libero Soldato i di finir! Tosto l'acciar fulmineo Decida omai di me! Dirà ciascuno, il misero Da prode morto egli è, Dirà ciascuno, il misero Da prode morto egli è Da prode morto egli è. Se di mia stirpe l'ultimo, Rampollo in me sen'va, Degli avi degno il povero Don Cesare morrà. Se freddo avel marmoreo Non si concede a me, Mi basta sol che dicano: "Da prode morto egli è."' 'Ah! spare, oh spare my ancient name From such foul disgrace--one boon, It is the last I shall ask thee, 'Tis to die, e'en like a soldier. Yes! let me like a soldier fall, Upon some open plain, This breast expanding for the ball To blot out ev'ry stain. Brave manly hearts confer my doom, That gentler ones may tell, Howe'er forgot, unknown my tomb, I like a soldier fell, Howe'er forgot, unknown my tomb, I like a soldier fell, I like a soldier fell. I only ask of that proud race, Which ends its blaze in me, To die the last, and not disgrace Its ancient chivalry. Tho' o'er my clay no banner wave, Nor trumpet requiem swell, Enough, they murmur o'er my grave, "He like a soldier fell."' The curtain fell: my companion asked me if I would like to see the stage room of the singer. I assented, we passed through the Green Room, and entered her room, where she was sitting on a chair, her mother with her. After an exchange of a few words, she plucked a few blossoms from a branch of orchids in a vase on the table near her, and put them into my button-hole, saying, 'Allow me,' and then, plucking some more, similarly favoured my companion. At that moment the stage-bell rang, and as I thought we were dashing out of the room and down the stairs, I awoke, and saw my young secretary standing before me. He said: 'The dinner-bell has rung; you have slept very long.' FINIS blank page APPENDIX I