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Updated: May 27, 2025
Besides, whatever M. Jupenet might say about it, by a simple inspection of the object, he perfectly well knew what it was. It was a character in printing. "Can you guess, now, what this is?" continued the poet. "No," said D'Artagnan, "no, ma foi!" "Well, monsieur," said M. Jupenet, "this little piece of metal is a printing letter." "Bah! "A capital."
M. Jupenet smiled like a man who has an answer for everything; then he pulled out still from his pocket a little metal ruler, composed of two parts, like a carpenter's rule, against which he put together, and in a line, the characters, holding them under his left thumb. "And what do you call that little metal ruler?" said D'Artagnan, "for, I suppose, all these things have names."
"This is called a composing-stick," said Jupenet; "it is by the aid of this stick that the lines are formed." "Come, then, I was not mistaken in what I said; you have a press in your pocket," said D'Artagnan, laughing with an air of simplicity so stupid, that the poet was completely his dupe.
Besides, whatever M. Jupenet might say about it, by a simple inspection of the object, he perfectly well knew what it was. It was a character in printing. "Can you guess, now, what this is?" continued the poet. "No," said D'Artagnan, "no, ma foi!" "Well, monsieur," said M. Jupenet, "this little piece of metal is a printing letter." "Bah!" "A capital."
Jupenet drew from his pocket seven or eight other pieces of brass smaller than the first. "Ah, ah," said D'Artagnan. "What!" "You have, then, a whole printing-office in your pocket. Peste! that is curious, indeed." "Is it not?" "Good God, what a number of things we learn by traveling." "To your health!" said Jupenet, quite enchanted. "To yours, mordioux, to yours. But an instant not in this cider.
Porthos made a sign to Jupenet, who perfectly recollected D'Artagnan, and did not care to come nearer; which naturally produced another sign from Porthos. This was so imperative, he was obliged to obey. As he approached, "Come hither!" said Porthos. "You only landed yesterday and you have begun your tricks already." "How so, monsieur le baron?" asked Jupenet, trembling.
Jupenet drew from his pocket seven or eight other pieces of brass smaller than the first. "Ah, ah," said D'Artagnan. "What!" "You have, then, a whole printing-office in your pocket. Peste! that is curious, indeed." "Is it not?" "Good God, what a number of things we learn by traveling." "To your health!" said Jupenet, quite enchanted. "To yours, mordioux, to yours. But an instant not in this cider.
Porthos made a sign to Jupenet, who perfectly recollected D'Artagnan, and did not care to come nearer; which naturally produced another sign from Porthos. This was so imperative, he was obliged to obey. As he approached, "Come hither!" said Porthos. "You only landed yesterday and you have begun your tricks already." "How so, monsieur le baron?" asked Jupenet, trembling.
"Stop, stop, stop;" said D'Artagnan, opening his eyes very innocently. "Yes, monsieur, a capital; the first letter of my name." "And this is a letter, is it?" "Yes, monsieur." "Well, I will confess one thing to you. "And what is that?" "No, I will not, I was going to say something stupid." "No, no," said Master Jupenet, with a patronizing air.
"Thus, then, you see, monsieur," continued the poet, "you are in error on my account, and that not being at all known to you, you have never heard tell of me." "Ah! that confounds me. That name, Jupenet, appears to me, nevertheless, a fine name, and quite as worthy of being known as those of MM. Corneille, or Rotrou, or Garnier.
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