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"Vos papiers, s'il vous plait!" Again I produced bundles of papers permis de sejour in Paris, Amiens, Rouen, Orleans, Le Mans; laisser-passer to Boulogne, Dieppe, Havre, Dunkirk, Aire-sur-Lys, Bethune and Hazebrouck; British passports and papiers vises by French consuls, French police, French generals, French mayors, and French stationmasters. But they were hardly satisfied.
Ou bien, s'il cherche la gloire, c'est en Angleterre qu'il faut aller. C'est l'Angleterre, ou la France il n'y a que ces deux pays en Europe dans le monde."
I often wonder then, if the brave Americans who are actually disputing inch by inch my home and its surroundings have ever had time to think that a little village known as "Ecoute s'il pleut," might find its English equivalent in "Hark-how-it-rains!" Two touching accounts of the second descent upon our country have come to my hands.
It turned out that she had just been for a month in Paris with another school-fellow. Something she said about a new play suddenly made me look at her. 'Venez vous asseoir ici, mademoiselle, s'il vous plaît près de moi, I said to her I can hear my own voice now, poor fool, and see her flush up. Ah!"
We were repeatedly called upon to coincide, at the very instant of flagellation, with the verdict pronounced against the youthful offender. "S'il est assez mechant, lui? Ah, mesdames, what do you think of one who goes forth dry, with clean sabots, that I, myself, have washed, and behold him returned, apres un tout p'tit quart d'heure, stinking with filth?
The landlord recognized his error by a fleeting smile. "Alone," said he. "Shall we go into my room?" "S'il vous plait, m'sieu'." Frowenfeld's breakfast, furnished by contract from a neighboring kitchen, stood on the table. It was a frugal one, but more comfortable than formerly, and included coffee, that subject of just pride in Creole cookery.
I cannot conceive a more grating badge to the officers than the white cockade the fleur de lys is now generally adopted in place of the N and other insignia of Bonaparte, but, excepting from some begging boys, I have never heard the cry of "Vive Louis XVIII.!" and then it was done, I shrewdly suspect, as an acceptable cry for the Anglois, and followed immediately by "un pauvre petit liard, s'il vous plait, Mons."
Harte, of the 31st July, N. S., I suppose you are now either at Venice or Verona, and perfectly re covered of your late illness: which I am daily more and more convinced had no consumptive tendency; however, for some time still, 'faites comme s'il y en avoit', be regular, and live pectorally.
"You will have to take this," said the Princess, giving me a letter so that she wouldn't touch my hand, "and be sure they don't catch you with the letter. Be careful, don't drink, Alexei. It's bad to drink; when you come back we'll give you 500 rubles." "Je né le tolère pas," she said to the Prince, "il a l'air si commun! Il nous vendrait tous, s'il etait assez intelligent!"
The Prince of Prussia's death is no public misfortune: there was a jealousy and alienation between the King and him, which could never have been made up between the possessor of the crown and the next heir to it. He will make something of his nephew, 's'il est du bois don't on en fait'. He is young enough to forgive, and to be forgiven, the possession and the expectative, at least for some years.
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