equal to a succession of London organ-grinders, as
I fully expected that other minstrels, upon hearing
of the Austrian dollars, would pay us a visit, and
sing of my great deeds.
In the afternoon, we were sitting beneath the
shade of our tamarind tree, when we thought we
could perceive our musical friend returning. As he
drew near, we were convinced that it was the identical
minstrel, who had most probably been sent
with a message from Mek Nimmur : there he was,
in snow-white raiment, on the snow-white mule,
with the mounted attendant and the violin as before.
He dismounted upon arrival opposite the camp, and
approached with his usual foppish bow ; but we
looked on in astonishment: it was not our Paganini,
it was another minstrel! who was determined to
sing an ode in our praise. I felt that this was an
indirect appeal to Maria Theresa, and I at once
declared against music. I begged him not to sing;
“my wife had a headache—I disliked the fiddle—
could he play anything else instead ? f and I expressed
a variety of polite excuses, but to no purpose
; he insisted upon singing; if I “ disliked the
fiddle, he would sing without an accompaniment,
hut he could not think of insulting so great a man
as myself by returning without an ode to commemorate
our arrival.”
I was determined that he should not sing; he
was determined that he would, therefore I desired
him to leave my camp; this he agreed to do, pro