The only fault to be found with the minstrelsy of the present day is the coarseness that pervades many of the sketches and crops out in the songs and funny sayings. The old-time negro character has been sunk out of sight and the vulgarity of the gamin has taken the place of the innocent comicalities that were in vogue forty years ago. It is true that the negro character has undergone a change and that the black man now vies with his white brother in everything that is low and vicious; but the criticism still holds good that negro minstrelsy is not what it was or what it ought to be, and that no matter how grand its proportions may be made by enterprising managers the many features that make it objectionable to fastidious people must be pruned off before it can be said to be deserving that full recognition which the public always accords to whatever is good in the amusement line. The negro minstrel is an institution entirely outside of the pale of commonplace people. He talks differently from other people, acts differently, dresses differently. A "gang of nigger singers" can be identified three blocks away by an ordinary observer of human nature. They have a fondness for high and shining silk hats that are reflected in the glaze of their patent-leather, low-quarter shoes every time they pull up their light trousers to look at their red or clocked silk stockings. Their clothes are of a minstrelsy cut, and like the party who came to town with rings on her fingers and rings on her toes, they must have their fingers covered with amethysts or cluster-diamond ornaments, and they rarely ever fail to display a "spark" in their gorgeous shirt fronts. They are "mashers" of the most pronounced type on the stage and off, and just as soon as they take possession of a small town, it is safe to say that all the feminine hearts lying around loose will be corraled within twenty-four hours of their arrival. They are as generous now as they were years ago, and few of them save a cent for the frequently mentioned rainy day. The very best of them have died in poverty, and found graves only through the charity of friends. Johnny Diamond and his partner, Jim Sanford, the former of whom helped Barnum in his first steps along the road to fortune, both died in the same Philadelphia alms-house. They had commanded big salaries, but dressed flashily and lived fast, and when the rainy day came they had to run for shelter to a public charity. Very few performers who die in poverty now are allowed to seek any other than the charity of their professional brethren. The Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks takes care of the unfortunates, assisting them generously while living and giving them decent burial at their death.