THE BIDET.

It is not mal-à-propos to take notice here, that though La Fleur availed himself but of two different terms of exclamation in this encounter -namely Diable! and Peste! that there are, nevertheless, three in the French language; like the positive, comparative, and superlative, one or the other of which, serve for every unexpected throw of the dice in life.

Le Diable! which is the first and positive degree, is generally used by ordinary emotions of the mind, where small things only fall out contrary to your expectation-such as the throwing once doublets-La Fleur's being kicked off his horse, and so forth-cuckoldom, for the same reason, is always-Le Diable!

But in cases where the cast has something provoking in it, as in that of the bidet's running away after--and leaving La Fleur aground in jack-boots-'tis the second degree.

'Tis then Peste!

And for the third

But here my heart is wrung with pity and fellow-feeling, when I reflect what miseries must have been their lot, and how bitterly so refined a people must have smarted, to have forced them upon the use of it

Grant me, O ye powers which touch the tongue with eloquence in distress!-whatever is my

NAMPONT.

east, grant me but descent words to exclaim in, and I will give my nature way.

But as these were not to be had in France, I resolved to take every evil just as it befel me, without any exclamation at all,

La Fleur, who had made no such covenant with himself, followed the bidet with his eyes, till it was got out of sight; and then you may imagine, if you please, with what word he closed the whole affair.

As there was no hunting down a frightened horse in jack-boots, there remained no alterna. tive but taking La Fleur either behind the chaise, or into it

I preferred, the latter, and in half an hour we got to the post-house at Nampont.

NAMPONT.

THE DEAD ASS.

—AND this, said he, putting the remains of a crust into his wallet-and this should have been thy portion, said he, hadst thou been alive to have shared it with me-I thought, by the accent, it had been an apostrophe to his child; but it was to his ass, and to the very ass we had seen

THE DEAD ASS.

dead in the road, which had occasioned La Fleur's misadventure. The man seemed to lament it much; and it instantly brought into my mind Sancho's lamentation for his; but he did it with more true touches of nature.

The mourner was sitting upon a stone bench at the door, with the ass's pannel and its bridle on one side, which he took up from time to time

-then laid them down-looked at them, and shook his head. He then took his crust of bread out of his wallet again, as if to eat it; held it some time in his hand, then laid it upon the bit of his ass's bridle-looked wistfully at the little ar. rangement he had made and then gave a sigh,

The simplicity of his grief drew numbers about him, and La Fleur among the rest, whilst the horses were getting ready; as I continued sitting in the post-chaise, I could see and hear over their heads.

He said he had come last from Spain, where he had been from the furthest borders of Franconia; and had got so far on his return home, when his ass died. Every one seemed desirous to know what business could have taken so So old and poor a man so far a journey from his own home.

It had pleased Heaven, he said to bless him with three sons, the finest lads in all Germany; but having, in one week, lost two of them by the

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small-pox, and the youngest falling ill of the distemper, he was afraid of being bereft of them all; and made ́a vow, if heaven would not take him from him also, he would go, in gratitude, to St. Iago, in Spain.

When the mourner got thus far in his story, he stopped to pay Nature her tribute, and wept bitterly.

He said heaven had accepted the conditions; and that he had set out from his cottage with this poor creature, who had been a patient partner of his journey-that it had eat the same bread with him all the way and was unto him as a friend.

Every body who stood about heard the poor fellow with concern-La Fleur offered him money. The mourner said he did not want it—it was not the value of the ass, but the loss of him. The ass, he said, he was assured, loved him-and upon this told them a long story of mischance upon their passage over the Pyrenean mountains, which had separated them from each other three days: during which time the ass had sought him as much as he had sought the ass, and that they had neither scarce eat or drank till they met.

Thou hast one comfort, friend, said I, at least, in the loss of thy poor beast: I am sure thou hast been a merciful master to him. Alas! said the mourner, I thought so, when he was alive, but now he is dead, I think otherwise--I fear the

THE POSTILLION.

weight of myself and my afflictions together have been too much for him—they have shortened the poor creature's days, and I fear I have them to answer for. Shame on the world! said I to myself-did we love each other as this poor soul but loved his ass, 'twould be something.

NAMPONT.

THE POSTILLION.

THE Concern which the poor fellow's story threw me into, required some attention: the postillion paid not the least to it, but set off upon the pavé in a full gallop.

The thirstiest soul, in the most sandy desert of Arabia, could not have wished more for a cup of cold water than mine did for grave and quiet movements; and I should have had a high opinion of the postillion, had he but stolen off with me in something like a pensive pace—on the contrary, as the mourner finished his lamentation, the fellow gave an unfeeling lash to each of his beasts, and set of clattering like a thousand devils.

I called to him as loud as I could, for heaven's sake, to go slower-and the louder I called, the more unmercifully he galloped. The deuce take