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Updated: July 2, 2025
'Some bee had stung it newly, you know. Well, Belle-bouche has honey lips a beautiful idea and bees love honey, and I love Belle-bouche: there's the syllogism, as you tiresome logicians say. Q. E. D., I am an Apician!" Jacques stands astounded at this gigantic philological joke, to the great satisfaction of his friend, who caresses his sandy whiskers with still greater self-appreciation.
Jacques was indeed, as we have said, gazing after the lady who had just departed, and for this purpose had opened his eyes to their greatest possible width. He resembled a china mandarin in the costume of Louis Quatorze. "Am I mistaken?" said Sir Asinus. Belle-bouche sighed. "A plain case: he is even now saying to himself, my dear Miss Belle-bouche,
Belle-bouche murmured, almost inaudibly. "Never, I fear," said Jacques; "or else," he continued with a sigh, "when we do find her, we always find that some other discoverer claims possession." Belle-bouche blushed. "Suppose it is without the consent of the aborigines," she said, attempting to laugh. Jacques looked at her; then shook his head.
"Well, last night I placed my watch on my window before retiring, you know; and in the night," continued Sir Asinus, "it commenced raining " "That was last night?" "Yes, Madam Belle-bouche.
"I am not mistaken, I think," said Jacques; "yes, yes, my queen, they are lovers. Do you not think that something like that which I spoke of formerly will come to pass?" Belle-bouche, with a delicious little rose-color brightening her cheek, replied, patting her satin-sandalled foot upon the flowery sward: "Which you spoke of pray, what did you speak of?" "Of my wish to be a shepherd "
Belle-bouche is very richly clad, in a velvet gown, a satin underskirt from which the gown is looped back, wide cuffs and profuse lace at wrists and neck; and on her diminutive feet, which peep from the skirt, are red morocco shoes tied with bows of ribbon, and adorned with heels not more than three inches in height.
And she abruptly left the room, to the profound astonishment of Jacques, who sat gazing after her with wide-extended eyes. "I told you he was in love with her, my dear Miss Belle-bouche, since you say that will in future be your name it is either with you or Madam Philippa."
It flashed, and glanced, and ran and stumbling over itself, fell upwards, showering back again in shattered cadences and fiery foam. When she ended, Jacques remained silent, and was only waked, so to speak, by hearing his name pronounced. "Yes," he said at random. Belle-Bouche laughed. "You agree with me, then, that my voice is wretchedly out of tune?" she said mischievously.
"What a lovely day; a real lover's day!" he said, with a sigh, when he had joined her, and they were walking on. "Delightful," said Belle-bouche, smelling a violet. "And the blossoms, you know," observed Jacques disconsolately. "Delicious!" "To say nothing of the birds," continued Jacques, sighing. "I believe the birds know the twentieth of May is coming."
"No, no that is my affair; but you must wear something else." "I? What, pray?" "Pink: it is the color of youth, and joy, and love worn by the Graces and the Naiads, Oreads and Dryads; the color of the sea-shell, and the autumn leaves and flowers something like it at least," Jacques added, finding himself mounting into the realms of imagination. Belle-bouche blushed slightly, and turned away.
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