war; an event of daily occurrence during this season of the year throughout these northern States, where playing at soldiers is one of the choicest amusements. Captain B----n asked a stander-by what volunteer corps was parading to-day: "Why, I don't rightly know; but I guess it may be the Taunton Juvenile Democratic Lancers."
Our informant was quite right; for whilst, puzzled by the gravity of the man, I was considering whether or no he meant a hoax by the style which he bestowed upon the gallant corps, into the square it marched, with drums beating and colours flying. The colonel commanding was a smart little fellow, about twelve years old, dressed in a fancy uniform jacket, and ample linen cossacks; his regiment mustered about forty rank and file, independent of a numerous and efficient staff: they were in full uniform; most of them were about the colonel's age, some of the cornets perhaps a trifle younger, as became their station; they were armed with lances; and their motto was most magnanimous, being all about glory, death, liberty, and democracy. Nothing could be more steady than the movements of this corps on foot; and, when mounted, I have no doubt they prove as highly efficient a body as any volunteer lancer cavalry in the Union.
This could not be called "teaching the young idea how to shoot," since the corps only bore l'arme blanche; but it was highly creditable to the waggery of the citizens of Taunton, and the most efficient burlesque upon the volunteer system I had yet seen, although I have encountered many more elaborately gotten up.
Whilst we were devising some means of visiting the principal manufactory, a gentleman entered our room, and introducing himself said, that, having recognised me in the street, he had called to know if he could be of any service in showing myself and friend the only lions of the place,--its manufactories.
This act of politeness, which I have found a common occurrence in every part of the Union, at once relieved us from our difficulty, and off we set in company with our civil guide to visit the largest dep?t of the place.
The designs of the printed cottons, and the colours, both struck me as being exceedingly good; in texture, however, I did not conceive any of the cloths equal to similar stuffs which I had seen at home in manufacturing towns. One of the partners informed me that they supplied large quantities of goods to the markets both of India and of South America: the manufacturer's chief drawback, he said, was found in the cost of labour; indeed, judging by the dress and neat appearance of the young women employed here, they must be exceedingly well paid: a comparison drawn between them and the same class of employées in England would be singularly in favour of the Taunton "Maids of the Mill."
The cool time of the day being come, we once more had our active ponies put to, and away they went as eager to "go a-head" as on our first start. From this place to Pocassett the ride was lovely: our road lay high above the river; and, over the luxuriant foliage, topsail-schooners, large sloops, and other craft, were seen working their different courses, some bound up, others to Providence, Newport, or the ports on the coast.
A few miles from the town we came upon a small clearing by the road-side, evidently in use as a place of burial, and nothing ever struck me as more neglected; a few decayed boards, with an ill-shaped falling head-stone or two, were all the prosperous living had bestowed upon their departed kindred. This neglect of those little decencies with which, amongst most people, places of sepulture are surrounded, is a thing of common observance in this part of the Union, and is one of the reproaches readily noticeable by all strangers. The distinction in this respect between the North and South is remarkable, and highly creditable to the feelings of the latter.
By the time we reached Pocassett it was nearly dark, and here we settled for the night, having driven the ponies fifty odd miles, without their being in the least distressed, and on a day of no ordinary fervor.
In the evening we attended a book sale, and were much amused by the volubility and humour of the Yankee salesman, who, with his coat off in a close crowded room, lectured upon the merits of the authors he offered, whether poetical, religious, historical, mathematical, or political, with equal ease and grace, greatly to the edification of the bystanders. The editions were chiefly American, made to sell, and thus exceedingly cheap. History and novels appeared to be the literature in demand; and Walter Scott, Byron, and Bulwer, the names most familiar in the verbal catalogue galloped over by
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