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Updated: June 25, 2025
"All I know is," loudly asserted mine host, "that there was my friend Peppercorn, 'oo owns the 'Blue-Faced Boar, an' as true and loyal an Englishman as you'd see in the land. And now look at 'im! 'E made friends with some o' them frog-eaters, 'obnobbed with them just as if they was Englishmen, and not just a lot of immoral, Godforsaking furrin' spies. Well! and what happened?
The "frog-eaters," however, were by no means despicable men; for one of them clubbed his musket and therewith hit Ben such a blow on the head that he fell flat on the deck. Seeing this, Bill Bowls bestrode his prostrate comrade, and defended him for a few seconds with the utmost fury.
"The mounseers must be in a precious hurry to catch us, if they do catch us," exclaimed Job Truefitt. "Give way, mates: if we can't keep ahead of a crew of frog-eaters, we desarves to be caught and shut up in the darkest prison in the land, without e'er a quid o' baccy to chaw, or a glass o' grog to freshen our nip." The men, however, required no inducement to exert themselves to the utmost.
He told a gentleman, belonging to this depot, that he never saw, nor ever read, or heard of such a set of Devil-daring, God-provoking fellows, as these same Yankees. And he added, I had rather have the charge of five thousand Frenchmen, than FIVE HUNDRED of these sons of liberty; and yet, said he, I love the dogs better than I do the damn'd frog-eaters.
Tumult in the passage; French and English voices at high pitch. Nokes without: Idiots! Frog-eaters! What is it I want? Susan. What is the matter, sir? Nokes. Everything is the matter. I've been made a fool of by the Montmorenci.
There are certain fundamental human sentiments which lift men above brutes, Frenchmen above "frog-eaters," and Englishmen above "shop-keepers." These ennobling sentiments or ideals, while universal in their essential nature, assume in each civilized nation a somewhat specific coloring.
But, in order that the reader may understand what a monument of folly these frog-eaters have raised in their abattoirs and cattle- markets, and may compare it with what common counselling has done for us all these years, and would still do but for the innovating spirit of the times, here follows a short account of a recent visit to these places: It was as sharp a February morning as you would desire to feel at your fingers' ends when I turned out tumbling over a chiffonier with his little basket and rake, who was picking up the bits of coloured paper that had been swept out, over-night, from a Bon-Bon shop to take the Butchers' Train to Poissy.
Black Mustache answered for her: "About twenty-two now." "She don't look it," said the sergeant, almost at ease once more. "But brunettes stands the racket better'n blondes. Native parents?" No answer. "Native. You don't look Irish or Dutch or Dago though you might have a dash of the Spinnitch or the Frog-eaters. Ever arrested before?" No answer from the girl, standing rigid at the bar.
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