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Updated: May 25, 2025
Not having any goat, the Tarasconer had the idea of employing an imitation, and he set to crying in a tremulous voice: "Baa-a-a!" At first it was done very softly, because at bottom he was a little alarmed lest the lion should hear him; but as nothing came, he baa-ed more loudly. Still nothing.
The rest have given him up as a bad job, and old Rapid has long ago passed into the legendary world, although your Tarasconer is very slightly superstitious naturally, and would eat cock-robins on toast, or the swallow, which is Our Lady's own bird, for that matter, if he could find any. "But that won't do!" you will say. Inasmuch as game is so scarce, what can the sportsmen do every Sunday?
The Touareg, too, in the desert, the Malay pirate, the brigand of the Abruzzi in short, "they" was warfare, travel, adventure, and glory. But, alas!! it was to no avail that the fearless Tarasconer called for and defied them; never did they come. Odsboddikins! what would they have come to do in Tarascon?
At this juncture a tall blackamoor tore by with our hero's medicine-chest upon his back. "You cut-throat! just wait for me!" yelled the Tarasconer as he ran after, with the knife uplifted. But Barbassou caught him in the spring, and holding him by the waist-sash, bade him be quiet. "Tron de ler! by the throne on high! they're no pirates. It's long since there were any pirates hereabout.
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