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" seems to me," said the Parisian, "that in spite of an exquisite climate, the people of Louisiana are one of the most solemn-faced I ever saw. There is no real gayety under this glorious sky. People seldom laugh here; when they do, the laugh is apt to be cynical. Workmen do not sing while they work; boys seldom whistle when they go along the street. The farther south I go, the more I find this to be the case. It is true, the negroes sing; but their melodies are the saddest and weirdest I ever heard. Why, in Paris the workshops are merry as birds' nests — it is one ceaseless caroling from morning till night; and in European countries the singing of laborers and farmers is proverbial; song appears to be a part of their existence. I