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Champollion-Figeac, chaps, v. and vi. Ibid., p. 364; Works, i. 172. Champollion-Figeac, p. 364: "Jeter de l'argent aux petis enfans qui estoient au long de Bourbon, pour les faire nonner en l'eau et aller querre l'argent au fond." Champollion-Figeac, p. 387. "Nouvelle Biographie Didot," art. "Marie de Clèves"; Vallet, "Charles VII.," iii. 85, note 1. Champollion-Figeac, pp. 383-386.
Venette supports this view when he says: "Nous avons l'expérience en France que ceux qui ne vivent presque que de coquillages et de poissons qui ne sont que de l'eau rassemblée, sont plus ardents
Jorrocks candidly confessed, "all to nothing." The chance of meeting the Countess Benvolio in such a multitude was very remote indeed, but, to tell the truth, Mr. Jorrocks never once thought of her, until having eat a couple of cold fowls and drank a bottle of porter, at an English booth, he felt in his pocket for his purse, and remembered it was in her keeping. Mr. Stubbs, however, settled the account, and in high glee Mr. Jorrocks resumed his peregrinations, visiting first one show, then another, shooting with pea-guns, then dancing a quadrille, until he was brought up short before a splendid green-and-gold roundabout, whose magic circle contained two lions, two swans, two black horses, a tiger, and a giraffe. "Let's have a ride," said he, jumping on to one of the black horses and adjusting the stirrups to his length. The party was soon made up, and as the last comer crossed his tiger, the engine was propelled by the boys in the centre, and away they went at Derby pace. In six rounds Mr. Jorrocks lost his head, turned completely giddy, and bellowed out to them to stop. They took no heed all the rest were used to it and after divers yells and ineffectual efforts to dismount, he fell to the ground like a sack. The machine was in full work at the time, and swept round three or four times before they could stop it. At last Mr. Stubbs got to him, and a pitiable plight he was in. He had fallen on his head, broken his feather, crushed his chapeau bras, lost off his mustachios, was as pale as death, and very sick. Fortunately the accident happened near the gate leading to the town of St. Cloud, and thither, with the aid of two gendarmes, Mr. Stubbs conveyed the fallen hero, and having put him to bed at the Hôtel d'Angleterre, he sent for a "médecin," who of course shook his head, looked very wise, ordered him to drink warm water a never-failing specific in France and keep quiet. Finding he had an Englishman for a patient, the "médecin" dropped in every two hours, always concluding with the order "encore l'eau chaud." A good sleep did more for Mr. Jorrocks than the doctor, and when the "médecin" called in the morning, and repeated the injunction "encore l'eau chaud," he bellowed out, "Cuss your l'eau chaud, my stomach ain't a reserwoir! Give me some wittles!" The return of his appetite being a most favourable symptom, Mr. Stubbs discharged the doctor, and forthwith ordered a déjeuner
It was the song Courant had sung, and as he heard it he lifted up his voice at the head of the train, and the two strains blending, the old French chanson swept out over the barren land: "A la claire fontaine! M'en allant promener J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle Que je me suis baigné!" Susan waved a beckoning hand to the voyageur, then turned to Lucy and said joyously: "What fun to have Zavier!
Pitt will be at the head of it. If he is, I presume, 'qu'il aura mis de l'eau dans son vin par rapport a Mylord B ; when that shall come to be known, as known it certainly will soon be, he may bid adieu to his popularity. A minister, as minister, is very apt to be the object of public dislike; and a favorite, as favorite, still more so.
Come along. Don't be silly." The elder girls gave in. Emma kept up a little solo of reproach hanging on Miriam's arm. "Very strict. Cold English. No bier. I want to home. I have bier to home" until they were in sight of the high walls of Waldstrasse. Pastor Lahmann gave a French lesson the next afternoon. "Sur l'eau, si beau!"
The early poems of De Maupassant like those of Paul Bourget, are not without sterling merit as poetry, but their main interest is that they reflect the characteristics of their author's mind. Such pieces as "Fin-d'Amour," and "Au Bord de l'Eau," in the 1880 volume, are simply short stories told in verse, instead of in prose.
It was all of no use, and well it might be; for when we had given it up in despair, after long patience and a considerable period of the contrary, and had descended for half an hour in the direction of a third glacière, I chanced to look back, and saw that the Col in the neighbourhood of which we had been searching lay between two points of the Montagne de l'Eau; while the true Col between that mountain and the Mont Parmelan lay considerably to the west.
Admiral marries Lady; there the danger, if danger is, will be on the other side. The lady has wanted a man so long, that she now compounds for half a one. Half a loaf I have been worse since my last letter; but am now, I think, recovering; 'tant va la cruche a l'eau'; and I have been there very often. Good-night. I am faithfully and truly yours. BLACKHEATH, June 27, 1758.
"An Injin! Yes, an out-and-out Cherokee. You see he calls himself Dorman Low Dorman. That's only French for 'Sleeping Water, his Injin name 'Low Dorman." "You mean 'L'Eau Dormante," said Nellie. "That's what I said. The chief called him 'Sleeping Water' when he was a boy, and one of them French Canadian trappers translated it into French when he brought him to California to school.
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