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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Will your ladyship," says he, slivering off the wing of a pully ally bashymall, "allow me to help you?" "I thank you! no; but I will trouble Monsieur de l'Orge." And towards that gnlmn she turned, with a most tender and fasnating smile. "Your ladyship has taken a very sudden admiration for Mr. de l'Orge's carving. You used to like mine once."
Such a conveniants of a man was Munseer de L'Orge the greatest use and comfort to my lady posbill; if it was but to laff at his bad pronunciatium of English, it was somethink amusink; the fun was to pit him against poar Miss Kicksey, she speakin French, and he our naytif British tong.
The foar fust women I adoared lafft at me, and left me for something more lively. With the rest I have edopted a diffrent game, and with tolerable suxess, I can tell you. But this is eggatism, which I aboar. Well, the long and the short of it is, that Munseer Ferdinand Hyppolite Xavier Stanislas, Shevalier de L'Orge, was reglar cut out by Munseer Algernon Percy Deuceace, Exquire.
And down went his knife and fork, over went his tumbler of wine, a deal of it into poar Miss Griffinses lap, who looked fritened and ready to cry. My lady bust into a fit of laffin, peel upon peel, as if it was the best joak in the world. De l'Orge giggled and grin'd too. "Pardong," says he; "meal pardong, mong share munseer." * And he looked as if he would have done it again for a penny.
Oh! he saw it all now the fust attempt at arest, the marridge fixt at 12 o'clock, and the bayliffs fixt to come and intarup the marridge! the jewel, praps, betwigst him and De l'Orge: but no, it was the WOMAN who did that a MAN don't deal such fowl blows, igspecially a father to his son: a woman may, poar thing! she's no other means of reventch, and is used to fight with underhand wepns all her life through.
Nous vinmes loger dans un caravanserai qui étoit éloigné de toute habitation. Nous y trouvâmes de l'orge et de la paille, et il eût été d'autant plus aisé de nous en approvisionner, qu'il n'y avoit d'autre gardien qu'un seul valet. Mais on n'a rien de semblable
Not that that quallaty is uncommon in France; but few, very few, had it to such a degree as my exlent employer, Mr. Deuceace. Besides De L'Orge was reglarly and reely in love with Lady Griffin, and master only pretending: he had, of coars, an advantitch, which the poor Frentchman never could git. He was all smiles and gaty, while Delorge was ockward and melumcolly.
"Monsieur de l'Orge," says he, shouting out at the top of his voice, "have the goodness to help Lady Griffin. She wanted MY grapes long ago, and has found out they are sour!" There was a dead paws of a moment or so. "Ah!" says my lady, "vous osez m'insulter, devant mes gens, dans ma propre maison c'est par trop fort, monsieur." And up she got, and flung out of the room.
"You are very skilful; but to-day, if you will allow me, I will partake of something a little simpler." The Frenchman helped; and, being so happy, in cors, spilt the gravy. A great blob of brown sos spurted on to master's chick, and myandrewed down his shert-collar and virging-white weskit. "Confound you!" says he, "M. de l'Orge, you have done this on purpose."
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