So much for the progress of
civilisation across the Mississippi.
We paddled about in the muddy streets yesterday, and looked in at the
shop-windows. We found even here plenty of hoop petticoats, and of
tempting-looking bookseller's shops. Our hotel is close to the
Court-house, a handsome building of limestone, with a portico and a
cupola in process of building, being a humble imitation of the one at
Washington. Yesterday evening, one or two of the gentlemen amused us
after dinner with some nigger songs, ending, I suppose out of compliment
to us, with "God save the Queen." I studied the toilette of one of our
party this morning--the only young unmarried lady among us. I had often
seen the same sort of dress at the hotels, but never such a good
specimen as this. It is called here the French morning robe or wrapper,
and this one was made of crimson merino, with a wide shawl bordering
half-way up the depth of the skirt. The skirt is quite open in front,
displaying a white petticoat with an embroidered bordering. The body of
the wrapper was formed in the old-fashioned way, with a neck-piece, with
trimmings of narrow shawl borderings; there was no collar at all, the
crimson merino coming against the neck without any break of even a frill
of white. The sleeves were very large, of the latest fashion, with white
under sleeves, and the waist was very short, confined with a red band of
merino.
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