"Coffee and pistols for two-without the coffee!" To which the Frenchman, with a bow of the intensest politeness, replied-toujours en sifflant -always in whistling— Oh, but gold is a chimera! Money all a fleeting dream! Which was not much more, and certainly no less than "Oh, if you come to that, two can play at that game. Poor devil! what a loss you will be to the worthy and estimable society of muffs and slow coaches! What will that excellent individual, Milady Popkins, remark, when she hears that I have settled the account of her son without a surplus? After you, sir, if you please! I will directly have the pleasure of following and killing you." Out of the café, and along the boulevards, strode the Englishman, followed by his new acquaintance, both "whistling as they went certainly not "from want of thought." Whether to keep their courage up," is not written in history. it was They soon reached a hall, where the Englishman offered the only weapons in his possession, excepting "maulies," or fists, and these were a pair of rapiers. And here it would appear, gracious reader, (if you are gracious,) that either I, or the Frenchman, or both of us, made a great mistake, when we understood the Englishman, by the sounds he uttered in his challenge, to signify the whistle of pistol-bullets. It appears that it was the whiz of swords, to which he had reference. But the Frenchman, who believed himself good at all things in general, and the fleurette in particular, made no scruples, but— drawing his sword with a long whistle-struck a salute, and held up a beautiful guard, accompanying every movement with a note from the original air of— Oh, but gold is a chimera! Money all a fleeting dream! And now, reader, had I the pen of the blind old man of Scio's rocky isle, I would describe thee a duel in the real comme il faut, two-thirty style. Every note of the air was accompanied by a thrust or a parry. When the Englishman made a thrust of low carte seconde, the Frenchman guarded with a semicircle parade, or an octave (I forget which). When the Frenchman made an appel, a beat, or a glissade, the Englishman, in no wise put out, either remained firm or put in a time thrust. Both marking time with the endless refrain- Oh, but gold is a chimera! Money all a fleeting dream! At last, an untimely thrust from the Englishman's rapier settled the business. The Frenchman fell-dropped his sword-and whistled in slower, slower measure and broken accents, for the last time, his little melody. Reader, I have no doubt that you have heard, ere now, the opera of Lucia di Lammermoor, and can well recall the dying struggles and perishing notes of Edgardo- Se di-vi-si fummo in ter-ra, Ne cong-iun-ga ne congiung-a il Nume in ciel ! I-o-ti-i-se-guo !—oh !—oh ! And so it was with our poor Frenchman, who panted forth, game to the last— "Oh,—but g-'g-'gold is a chi-mera ! M-'m-'mon-ey but a fleeee-" And here-borne on the wings of a last expiring whistle-his soul took its flight. Not a word had been spoken by either of the combatants!-Meister Karl's Sketch-Book. SCHNITZERL'S PHILOSOPEDE. PARDT FIRSDT. Herr Schnitzerl make a philosopede, It vent mitout a vheel in front, For he shtraddled on de axle dree Und ven he vant to shtart id off He run her out on Broader shtreed, De vellers mit de trottin nags De Deutschers all erstaunished saidt: “Potztausend! Was ist das?” Boot vaster shtill der Schnitzerl flewed On-mit a gashtly smile; He tid n't tooch de dirt, py shings! Oh, vot ish all dis earthly pliss? Ve find a pank-node in de shtreedt, So vas it mit der Schnitzerlein His feet both shlipped outsideward shoost Vhen at his extra shpeed. He felled oopon der vheel of course; De vheel like blitzen flew : Und Schnitzerl he was schnitz* in vact For id shlished him grod† in two. Und as for his philosopede, Id cot so shkared, men say, It pounded onward till it vent Ganz teufelwards afay. * Cut. + Straight. + Quite. |