meet him the next day in New York. The next day I started for that city. On arriving at Princeton we met the cars, and, purchasing the morning papers I was overwhelmed with surprise and dismay to find in them a full account of my engagement with Jenny. However, this premature announcement could not be recalled, and I put the best face upon the matter. Being anxious to learn how this communication would strike the public mind, I informed the gentlemanly conductor (whom I well knew) that I had made an engagement with Jenny Lind, and that she would surely visit this country in the following August.

eee

Jenny Lind! Is she a dancer?' asked the conductor. "I informed the conductor who and what she was, but his question had chilled me as if his words were ice! Really, thought I, if this is all that a man in the capacity of a railroad conductor between Philadelphia and New York knows of the greatest songstress in the world, I am not sure that six months will be too long a time for me to occupy in enlightening the entire public in regard to her merits."

How well Mr. Barnum employed that time, most of us remember. Long before the great songstress landed all America was on the qui vive. On Sunday, September 1, 1850, at twelve o'clock, the steamer "Atlantic," with Jenny Lind on board, came to opposite the quarantine ground, and Mr. Barnum, who had been on the island since the evening before, was soon on board.

"But where did you hear me sing?" Jenny Lind asked him, as soon as the first compliments had been exchanged.

"I never had the pleasure of hearing you before in my life," said the manager.

"How is it possible," she rejoined, "that you dared risk so much money on a person you never heard sing?"

"I risked it on your reputation," he replied, "which in

musical matters I would much rather trust than my own judgment."

Mr. Barnum had made ample provision for her landing. The wharves and ships were covered with thousands of people on that pleasant Sunday afternoon to see her step on shore. A large bower of green trees and two triumphal arches covered with flags and streamers, were seen upon the wharf, the work of Mr. Barnum's agents. The carriage of that enterprising person conveyed her to the Irving House, which was surrounded all that afternoon and evening with crowds of people. Mr. Barnum tells us that he had the pleasure of dining with her that afternoon, and that during the meal she invited him to take a glass of wine with her. He re

plied :

"Miss Lind, I do not think you can ask any other favor on earth which I would not gladly grant; but I am a teetotaler, and must beg to be permitted to drink your health and happiness in a glass of cold water."

Nineteen days elapsed before her first appearance in public, during which she was the centre of attraction, and the theme of every tongue. The acute and experienced Barnum, perceiving that his enterprise was an assured success, endeavored to guard against the only danger which could threaten it. Two days after the arrival of the nightingale he told her that he wished to make a little alteration in their agreement.

"What is it?" she asked, much surprised.

"I am convinced," replied he, "that our enterprise will be much more successful than either of us anticipated. I wish, therefore, to stipulate that you shall always receive a thousand dollars for each concert, besides all the expenses, and that after taking fifty-five hundred dollars per night, for expenses and my services, the balance shall be equally divided between us."

Jenny Lind was astonished; and supposing that the propo

sition was dictated by a sense of justice, she grasped the manager by the hand, and exclaimed:

"Mr. Barnum, you are a gentleman of honor! You are generous. I will sing for you as long as you please. I will sing for you in America, - in Europe, anywhere!"

Mr. Barnum hastens to let us know that the change in the agreement was not the dictate of pure generosity. He feared that envious persons would create discontent in her mind, and he thought "it would be a stroke of policy to prevent the possibility of such an occurrence."

The tickets for the first concert were sold at auction, and produced the astonishing sum of $17,864. Jenny Lind instantly resolved to give her portion of the proceeds to the charitable institutions of the city.

The eventful evening came. Five thousand persons assembled at Castle Garden, who had paid for the privilege sums which varied from two dollars to two hundred and twenty-five. It was the largest audience before which she had ever appeared, and she was considerably agitated. When the conductor of the concert led her forward, attired in white, with a rose in her hair, the audience rose and gave her three thundering cheers, and continued for several seconds to clap their hands and wave their hats and handkerchiefs. She had a singularly pleasing way of acknowledging the applause of an audience. She had a timid, shrinking look, which appealed powerfully to popular sympathy, and inflamed the enthusiasm of the spectators to the highest degree. The orchestra began to play the prelude to "Casta Diva,”—a piece which displayed all the power, all the thrilling sweetness, and some of the defects of her wonderful organ. Never had an assembly come together with such high-wrought expectations. Nevertheless, those expectations seemed to be more than realized, and the last notes of the song were lost in the irrepressible acclamations of the people.

This success was the beginning of a splendid career in America. Under Mr. Barnum's management, she gave ninety-five concerts. The total receipts were $712,161. The average receipts of each concert were $7,496. The sum received by Jenny Lind was $176,675. Mr. Barnum's receipts, after paying her, were $535,486. Some of the tickets brought remarkable prices. The highest price paid for a ticket in New York was $225; in Boston, $625; in Providence, $650; in Philadelphia, $625; in New Orleans, $240; in St. Louis, $150; in Baltimore, $100. The price of seats, not sold by auction, ranged from three dollars to seven dollars.

After enchanting the United States it remained for Jenny Lind to conquer the fastidious and difficult public of Havana. A striking scene occurred on the occasion of her first appearance in Havana. The people, it seems, were much offended by the unusual prices charged for admission, and came to the concert determined not to be pleased, — a circumstance of which Jenny Lind was ignorant. The scene was thus described at the time in the New York Tribune :

Some

"Jenny Lind appeared, led on by Signor Belletti. three or four hundred persons clapped their hands at her appearance; but this token of approbation was instantly silenced by at least two thousand five hundred decided hisses. Thus, having settled the matter that there should be no forestalling of public opinion, and that if applause was given to Jenny Lind in that house it should first be incontestably earned, the most solemn silence prevailed. I have heard the Swedish nightingale often in Europe as well as America, and have ever noticed a distinct tremulousness attending her first appearance in any city. Indeed, this feeling was plainly manifested in her countenance as she neared the foot-lights; but when she witnessed the kind of reception in store for her,

so different from anything she had reason to expect, - her countenance changed in an instant to a haughty self-possession, her eye flashed defiance, and, becoming immovable as a statue, she stood there, perfectly calm and beautiful. She was satisfied that she now had an ordeal to pass and a victory to gain worthy of her powers. In a moment her eye scanned the immense audience, the music began, and then followed how can I describe it?-such heavenly strains as I verily believe mortal never breathed except Jenny Lind, and mortal never heard except from her lips. Some of the oldest Castilians kept a frown upon their brow and a curling sneer upon their lip; their ladies, however, and most of the audience began to look surprised. The gushing melody flowed on, increasing in beauty and glory. The caballeros, the señoras, and señoritas began to look at each other; nearly all, however, kept their teeth clenched and their lips closed, evidently determined to resist to the last. The torrent flowed faster and faster, the lark flew higher and higher, the melody grew richer and richer; still every lip was compressed. By and by, as the rich notes came dashing in rivers upon our enraptured cars, one poor critic involuntarily whispered a 'brava.' This outbursting of the soul was instantly hissed down. The stream of harmony rolled on till, at the close, it made a clean sweep of every obstacle, and carried all before it. Not a vestige of opposition remained, but such a tremendous shout of applause as went up was never before heard.

"The triumph was most complete. And how was Jenny Lind affected? She, who stood a few moments previous like adamant, now trembled like a reed in the wind before the storm of enthusiasm which her own simple notes had produced. Tremblingly, slowly, and almost bowing her face to the ground, she withdrew. The roar and applause of victory increased. Encore! encore! encore! came from every lip. She again appeared, and, courtesying low, again