THE STARLING.

ROAD TO VERSAILLES.

I got into my remise the hour I proposed; La Fleur got up behind, and I bid the coachman make the best of his way to Versailles.

As there was nothing in this road, or rather nothing which I look for in travelling, I cannot fill up the blank better than with a short history of this self-same bird, which became the subject of the last chapter.

Whilst the honourable Mr. **** was waiting for a wind at Dover, it had been caught upon the cliffs before it could well fly, by an English lad who was his groom; who, not caring to destroy it, had taken it in his breast into the packet and by course of feeding it, and taking it once under his protection, in a day or two grew fond of it, and got it safe along with him to Paris.

At Paris the lad had laid out a livre in a little cage for the starling, and as he had little to do better the five months his master stayed there, he taught it in his mother's tongue the four simple words (and no more) to which I own'd my. self so much its debtor.

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the

But

Upon his master's going on for Italy lad had given it to the master of the hotel. his little song for liberty being in an unknown language at Paris, the bird had little or no store set by him so La Fleur bought him and his cage for me for a bottle of Burgundy.

In my return from Italy, I brought him with me to the country in whose language he had learn'd his notes - and telling the story of him to Lord A-, Lord A. begg'd the bird of me - In a week Lord A. gave him to Lord B.; Lord B. made a present of him to Lord C.; and Lord C's. gentle. man sold him to Lord D's. for a shilling Lord D. gave him to Lord E and so on, half round the alphabet. From that rank he pass'd into the lower house, and pass'd the hands of as many but all these wanted to get in and my bird wanted to get out he had almost as little store set by him in London as in Paris.

commoners.

It is impossible but many of my readers must have heard of him; and if any by mere chance have ever seen him, I beg leave to inform

them, that that bird was my bird copy set up to represent him.

I have nothing farther to add upon him, but that from that time to this, I have borne this poor starling as the crest to my arms. - Thus

And let the heralds officers twist his neck about, if they dare.

THE ADDRESS.

VERSAILLES.

I should not like to have my enemy take a view of my mind when I am going to ask protection of any man; for which reason I generally endeavour to protect myself; but this going to Mons. Le Duc de C**** was an act of compulsion had it been an act of choice, I should have done it, I suppose, like other people.

How many mean plans of dirty address, as I went along, did my servile heart form! I deserved the Bastille for every one of them.

Then nothing would serve me, when I got within sight of Versailles, but putting words and sentences together, and conceiving attitudes and tones to wreath myself into Monsieur le Duc de C****'s good graces. This will do, said I. Just as well, retorted I again, as a coat carried up to him by

an adventurous taylor, without taking his measure Fool! continued 1; see Mons. le Duc's face first observe what character is written in it take notice in what posture he stands to hear you mark the turns and expressions of his body and limbs — and for the tone - the first sound which comes from his lips will give it you; and from all these together you'll compound an address at once on the spot, which cannot disgust the Duke the ingredients are his own, and most likely to go down.

Coward

Well! said I, I wish it well over. again! as if man to man was not equal throughout and if in. the the whole surface of the globe?

field why not face to face in the cabinet too? And trust me, Yorick, whenever it is not so, man Is false to himself, and betrays his own succours ten times where Nature does it once. Go to the Duc de C**** with the Bastille in thy looks my life for it, thou wilt be sent back to Paris in half an hour with an escort.

I believe so, said I. — Then I'll go to the Duke, by heaven! with all the gaiety and debonair

ness in the world.

And there you are wrong again, replied I A heart at ease, Yorick, flies into no extremes 'tis ever on its centre. Well! well! cried I, as the coachman turned in at the gates, I find I shall do very well: and by the time he had wheeled round the court, and brought me up to the door, I found myself so much the better for my own lecture, that I neither ascended the steps like a victim to justice, who was to part with life upon the topmast - nor did I mount them with a skip and a couple of strides, as I do when I fly up, Eliza! to thee, to meet it.

As I entered the door of the saloon, I was met by a person who possibly might be the maitre d'hotel, but had more the air of one of the undersecretaries, who told me the Duc de C**** was busy. I am utterly ignorant, said I, of the forms of obtaining an audience, being an absolute stranger, and what is worse in the present conjuncture of affairs, being an Englishman too. →→→ He replied,

for

that did not increase the difficulty. I made him a slight bow, and told him, I had something of importance to say to Monsieur le Duc. The secretary looked towards the stairs, as if he was about to leave me, to carry up this account to some one But 1 must not mislead you, said I what I have to say, is of no manner of importance to Monsieur le Duc de C***** but of great importance to myself. C'est une autre affaire, replied he. Not at all, said I, to a man of gallantry. But pray, good Sir, continued I, when can a stranger hope to have acces? In not less than two hours, said he, looking at his watch.. The number of equipages in the courtyard seemed to justify the calculation, that I could have no nearer a prospect and as walking backwards and forwards in the saloon, without a soul to commune with, was for the time as bad as being in the Bastille itself, I instantly went back to my remise, and bid the coachman drive me to the Cordon Bleu, which was the nearest hotel. I think there is a fatality in it to the place I set out for.

LE PATISSIER.

I seldom go

VERSAILLES.

Before I had got half way down the street I changed my mind. As I am at Versailles, thought I. I might as well take a view of the town; so I pulled the cord, and ordered the coachman to drive round some of the principal streets. I suppose the town is not very large, said I The coachman begged pardon for setting me right, and told me it was very superb, and that numbers of the first dukes, and marquises, and counts had hotels The Count de B****, of whom the bookseller at the Quai de Conti had spoken so handsomely the night before, came instantly into my mind. And why should I not go, thought I, to the count de B****, who has so high an idea of English books and Englishmen and tell him my story? so I changed my mind a second time In truth it was the third; for I had intended

that day for Madame de R*** in the Rue de St. Pierre, and had devoutly sent her word by her fille de chambre that I would assuredly wait upon her but I am governed by circumstances I cannot govern them: so seeing a man standing with a basket on the other side of the street, as if he had something to sell, I bid La Fleur go up to him and inquire for the Count's hotel.

La Fleur returned a little pale, and told me it It was a Chevalier de St. Louis selling patés. La Fleur could is impossible, La Fleur, said I. no more account for the phenomenon than myself, but persisted in his story: he had seen the Croix set in gold, with its red riband, he said, tied to his button-hole and had looked into the basket, and seen the patés which the Chevalier was selling; so could not be mistaken in that.

Such a reverse in man's life awakens a better principle than curiosity; I could not help looking for some time at him as I sat in the remise. The more I looked at him, his Croix and his basket, the stronger they wove themselves into my brain.I got out of the remise, and went towards him.

He was begirt with a clean linen apron, which fell below his knees, and with a sort of bib that went half way up his breast; upon the top of this, but a little below the hem, hung his Croix. His basket of little patés was covered over with a white damask napkin; another of the same kind was spread at the bottom: and there was a look of propreté and neatness throughout, that one might have bought his patés of him as much from appetite as sentiment.

He made an offer of them to neither; but stood still with them at the corner of a hotel, for those to buy who chose it, without solicitation.

He was about forty-eight of a sedate look, something approaching to gravity. I did not wonder. I went up rather to the basket than him, and having lifted up the napkin, and taken one of his pates into my hand I begged he would explain the appearance which affected me.

He told me in a few words that the best part of his life had passed in the service, in which,