Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !

Updated: June 10, 2025


But Monsieur Latour has served his apprenticeship at the galleys, and is no more a Pole than I am a Jew." "And this lady's fortune!" cried Monsieur Goupitle, pathetically; "the settlements are all made the notaries all paid. I am sure there must be some mistake." Monsieur Bihl, who had by this time restored his lost Helen to her senses, stalked up to the epicier, dragging the lady along with him.

"This is Monsieur Lofe Anglais celebre. What have you to say against him?" "He has got five hundred francs of mine!" cried the epicier. The policeman scanned Mr. Love, with great attention. "So you are in Paris again? Hein! vous jouez toujours votre role! "Ma foi!" said Mr.

"With what does not concern me!" repeated Monsieur Goupille, drawing himself up to so great a stretch that he seemed pulling off his tights the wrong way. "Explain yourself, if you please! This lady is my wife!" "Say that again, that's all!" cried the whiskered stranger, in most horrible French, and with a furious grimace, as he shook both his fists just under the nose of the epicier.

It so happened that, in these saltations, he ascended a stool near the curtain behind which Monsieur and Madame Giraud were ensconced. Somewhat agitated by a slight flutter behind the folds, which made him fancy, on the sudden panic, that Rosalie was creeping that way, the epicier made an abrupt pirouette, and the hook on which the curtains were suspended caught his left coat-tail,

The epicier, however, grew jealous of the attentions of his noble rival, and told him that he gene'd mademoiselle; whereupon the Vicomte called him an impertinent; and the tall Frenchman, with the riband, sprang up and said: "Can I be of any assistance, gentlemen?" Therewith Mr.

Mademoiselle Adele de Courval sighed: "Helas! they remind me of happier days, when I was a petite and my dear grandmamma took me in her lap and told me how she escaped the guillotine: she was an emigree, and you know her father was a marquis." The epicier bowed and looked puzzled. He did not quite see the connection between the bon-bons and the guillotine.

Perhaps we have not the word, because we have so much of the thing. At Soli, I imagine, they did not talk of solecisms; and here, at the very headquarters of Goliath, nobody talks of Philistinism. Efforts have been made to obtain in English some term equivalent to Philister or épicier; Mr.

Mademoiselle Adele de Courval sighed: "Helas! they remind me of happier days, when I was a petite and my dear grandmamma took me in her lap and told me how she escaped the guillotine: she was an emigree, and you know her father was a marquis." The epicier bowed and looked puzzled. He did not quite see the connection between the bon-bons and the guillotine.

Moreover, they were led by the bourgeoisie with a cry for parliamentary reform, which at that period was the supposed panacea for every kind of evil. The king was not popular. He was not the ideal Frenchman. He was a Frenchman of the épicier, or small grocer, type. As a bon père de famille he was anxious to settle his sons well in life.

"Why he used to be aye laughing at me for being romantic. He's one that's looking for truth and reality, he says, and he's terrible down on the kind of poetry I like myself." She smiled. "They all talk so. Tell me about yourself." "I'm just what you see a middle-aged retired grocer." "Grocer?" she queried. "Ah, yes, epicier. But you are a very remarkable epicier. Mr.

Word Of The Day

writing-mistress

Others Looking