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Updated: July 2, 2025
Jacques was radiant, and this the reader may possibly understand, if he will recollect the scheme of this gentleman to address Belle-bouche where no fate could interrupt him. As Sir Asinus passed on, frowning, Jacques cast upon that gentleman a look which expressed triumphant happiness. "You won't interrupt me on my way back, will you?" he said, smiling; "eh, my dear Sir Asinus?"
Her hair is powdered and woven with pearls she wears a pearl necklace; she looks like a child dressed by its mother for a ball, and spoiled long ago by "petting." Belle-bouche reads the "Althea" of Lovelace, and smiles approvingly at the gallant poet's assertion, that the birds of the air know no such liberty as he does, fettered by her eyes and hair.
"A dream," he continues, "which many poor fellows dream, and live in, and make a reality of alas! never to be realized." "Perhaps the world has changed since the old Arcadian days," murmurs Belle-bouche, gazing down with rosy cheeks, and a bad attempt at ease. "You know the earth has become different." "Yes, yes," sighs Jacques; "I very much fear all this is folly." "Who knows but " She pauses.
"Pretty, isn't it?" sighed Jacques; "but here is another verse: "Yestreen we met beside the birk, A-down ayont the burnie, O, An' wan'er't till the auld gray kirk A stap put to our journie, O. "Ah, lassie, there it stans! quo' I " With which words Jacques shut the book, and threw upon Belle-bouche a glance which made that young lady color to the roots of her hair.
Sir Asinus had disappeared through a door leading into the garden some moments before, and Belle-bouche could reply most truthfully as she did that the truant had visited her that morning, but was gone. The worthy Doctor smiled, and said no more.
You know the minuet always gives place to the reel." Jacques uttered an expiring assent, and Belle-bouche commenced singing with her laughing voice the then popular ditty, "Pretty Betty Martin, tip-toe fine." If her voice sighed before, it laughed out loudly now. The joyous and exhilarating music sparkled, glittered, fell in rosy showers rattled like liquid diamonds and dry rain.
"Indeed, you are mistaken; I'm sure you are a very fastidious shepherd." "No, no. True, I may never find my Chloe; but when I do, then I shall no longer be my own master." Belle-bouche hesitated, blushed, and said quickly: "Perhaps you long to meet with an angel." "Oh, no only a woman," said Jacques; "and if you will listen, I will describe my ideal in a moment."
"I don't know, and I don't care I'd try." Jacques sighs again, and looks wistfully at Belle-bouche, who smiles. "I'm afraid such a cavalier address at the pistol's mouth as it were at forty paces like those highwaymen you spoke of but now would only insure failure." "You are mistaken." "I doubt the propriety of such a 'making love." "If I were a man, you would see my success.
Poor Jacques only sighed and blushed. "Betty Martin was a foolish girl," said Belle-bouche, laughing to hide her embarrassment. "How?" murmured Jacques. Belle-bouche found that she was involved in a delicate explanation; but thinking boldness the best, she replied: "Because she could not find just the husband she wanted. You know the song says so 'some were too coarse and some too fine."
His costume resembled a variegated Dutch tulip; his hair was powdered to excess; he sighed and whispered sadly, and looked at the lady. The lady was called Belle-bouche, Belinda, or Rebecca. The gentleman was familiarly known as Jacques. "I think that would suit you," sighed Jacques. "This ribbon?" asked Belle-bouche, with a gay smile. "Yes; it is yours by right. It is the prettiest of all."
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