There seems to be no doubt from the records of the period that Jenny Lind’s voice was a brilliant and powerful soprano, dramatic, flexible and rich, and she was praised very highly for her ability to control the shake and the skilful management of her breath. She always insisted also that a singer should “look pleasant” while singing and never allow herself contortions of any kind. She had a perfect horror of careless enunciation. After the first concerts had confirmed the greatest hopes and most fervent expectations, the personal, popular enthusiasm increased, if possible. The rumor went about that one of Jenny Lind’s gloves had been found by a citizen of New York, and the finder exhibited the glove to large crowds, charging one shilling to kiss its outside and two shillings to kiss the inside. A crowd gathered outside her hotel one evening saw two ladies appear on a balcony. The crowd looked eagerly; it could not be sure, but some of the members believed that one of the ladies was Jenny Lind. Just then the lady dropped a peach pit from the balcony, and a mad scramble followed for the possible peach pit that had lodged for a moment in the divine mouth of Jenny Lind. The only Whig candidate for Assembly in one of the districts of Rensselaer County, New York, was Jenny Lind. She had previously received a vote for Lieutenant Governor of Massachusetts, and she received several votes in New York City for mayor. These and other absurdities were ridiculed and held against the population of New York in newspapers of other cities, and especially by the London press. The London _Athenæum_, commenting upon the reports of Jenny Lind’s reception in New York, wrote: “‘Jenny’s in New York,’ ‘Jenny’s in America,’ shout the papers--they can scarcely credit their own good fortune. They go about asking one another if it can be true.... The gentle little lady has come amongst them to sing a few of her pastoral airs ‘for a consideration,’--and they greet her with a perfect Niagara of welcome. We never remember child’s play performed before by such a company. The whole thing looks like a vast ‘make-believe.’ America seems to have no serious business in life; and the whole people--bishops, magistrates and all--are engaged in a huge game of ‘High Jinks.’” But this criticism resembled the sober reflections of a reformed drunkard, as he sees a fellow man rolling in the gutter. The London _Athenæum_ forgot its own account by a Frankfort, Germany, correspondent published several years before: “Dine where you would during the Frankfort Fair, you heard of ‘Free Trade’--and Jenny Lind; of Railroads--and next of Jenny Lind; of the Spanish Match [the marriage of the Spanish princess]--and, still, Jenny Lind; of the Pope and the people--and, always, Jenny Lind! When she was coming--what she would sing--how much be paid--who get the places--and the like.” The London papers forgot in their ridicule of American