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THE PARAGREENS 
 
 ON A VISIT 
 
 ; 
 
 TO THE PARIS UNIVERSAL EXHIBITION. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 LORENZO BENONI,” AND “ DOCTOR ANTONIO.” 
 
 / 
 
 WITH ILLUSTEATIOKS BT JOHN LEECH. 
 
 EDINBURGH: THOMAS CONSTABLE AND CO. 
 
 HAMILTON,' ADAMS, AND CO., LONDON. 
 
 MDCCCLVI. 
 
 [Right of Reproductiov and Translation reserved.'] 
 
THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EN ROUTE. 
 
 r 
 
 iMMA, square your elbows, my dear— 
 stick out your arms, Arabella ; see, this 
 way—stand by Tobo ; steady, boy, steady 
 —Dora, you and Da, lay fast hold of the 
 tails of my coat ;—when the door o^Dens, all 
 of you keep as close to my heels as you 
 can. I am going to have a try for a carriage to 
 ourselves—once in, we’ll call out ‘ Complet,’ French 
 for ‘ full,’ remember, and trundle away to Paris as 
 comfy, comfy as can be ; eh, Mrs. Paragreen ?” 
 
 The circumstances under which the foregoing 
 directions were issued, in thrilling whispers, by Mr. 
 Sylvester Paragreen, of Eden Villa, Peckham, to his 
 wife and offspring, (four pledges of affection in differ¬ 
 ent stages of promising progression,) made pardonable, 
 
 A 
 
2 
 
 THE PAKAGREENS. 
 
 nay justified, tlie excitement of the speaker ; perhaps 
 necessitated the plan of strategy so graphically imaged 
 forth by word and gesture. 
 
 Suppose five hundred people caged within a space 
 just large enough to hold a moiety of the number,— 
 suppose, in the heart of each of these five hundred 
 people, a frantic craving to be foremost, a frantic 
 determination to be so by fair means or foul—and 
 you may then easily picture to yourself the uproar 
 and confusion exhibited in the waiting-room of the 
 Boulogne Railway terminus, on this blessed 19 th of 
 August 1855. The swell in the channel, midway 
 between the white cliffs of Albion and the opposite 
 dusky French coast, was not half so terrific as the 
 sv/ell of human waves compressed within the narrow 
 limits of those four walls. The company was almost 
 exclusively English, and therefore most respectable,— 
 of that, there could be no doubt. Perhaps the com¬ 
 bined effects of a paroxysm of loyalty, (they were 
 running after the Gracious Majesty of England, who 
 had passed on to Paris the day before,) and the heat 
 of the dogdays, might account for the extra activity 
 of the bump of combativeness displayed on this oc¬ 
 casion by these true-hearted subjects. 
 
 Could the philosopher who said that “ man was 
 a wolf to man” have been a spectator of the scene, 
 
EN EOUTE. 
 
 3 
 
 how he would have relished the sight of this small 
 section of society in a state of nature, (plus, the 
 wearing apparel, minus, luckily, the tomahawk,) 
 waging war on each other,—of ladies, with the sour¬ 
 est or sweetest of faces, battering alike people’s legs, 
 or poking at people’s eyes, with their dangling- 
 bags, and parasols brandished aloft,—of gentlemen, 
 with dubious or irreproachable linen, smelling of 
 patchouly or a fresh dram, as the case might be, 
 pushing madly forwards, as if for life’s sake, and using 
 their elbows cruelly as wedges,—of young and old, high 
 and low, equally bent on escalading, or violently sup¬ 
 pressing the living obstacle in their way, undeterred 
 by expostulations, cries, groans, wailing of babies, 
 threats, and—oh shame ! something far worse. 
 
 And all this tear and wear, all this scrambling, 
 squeezing, trampling, all this ferocious competition 
 in its most coarse and ugly shape, what was it for ? 
 merely to obtain the place, and carry the position 
 —judge if the defence of it was a trifle—occupied 
 by Mr. Paragreen and his family,—that is, close to 
 the door giving access to the platform, and against 
 the glass panes of which, Mr. Paragreen and his two 
 little daughters, Emma and Arabella, were at that 
 moment flattening their noses. 
 
 But the Paragreens were equal to the emergency. 
 

 THE PAEAGREENS. 
 
 Tobo, a stout lad of seventeen, with his mother and 
 eldest sister, formed the rear-guard, and stood their 
 ground bravely. Mrs. and Miss Paragreen had drop¬ 
 ped their travelling bags on the ground, an impromptu 
 palisade between themselves and their assailants. Al¬ 
 together, the family, as it stood in a double row, thrce 
 abreast, looked like a miniature Macedonian phalanx, 
 and one in which it would be difficult to espy or 
 force an entrance. The resemblance was the more 
 perfect, that the four broad-brims, worn by the female 
 Paragreens,—those delicious chocolate-complexioned 
 straw hats, so immortalized by Punch, did not repre¬ 
 sent amiss the bucklers, under cover of which, that 
 famous ancient corps used to march. 
 
 “ Are you sure the luggage is safe ?” suddenly 
 asked Mrs. Paragreen. 
 
 The luggage was the lady’s mania. 
 
 “ Quite safe, my dear, I have got a ticket for it.” 
 
 “ Where ?” inquired the lady anxiously. 
 
 “ Why ! in my waistcoat pocket, with our other 
 tickets.” 
 
 “ Are you quite certain, now, Mr. Paragreen — 
 you had better look before it’s too late.” 
 
 “ My dear, I am so jammed.” 
 
 “ Nonsense—give me that bag,” making a snatch 
 
 at it. 
 
EX ROUTE. 
 
 0 
 
 Mr. Paragreen put his hand into the right side 
 p(X3ket—“ Bless my heart !” he ejaculated. 
 
 “I thought so 1” groaned Mrs. Paragreen. 
 
 “Here they are !” proclaimed Mr. Paragreen, red 
 as a furnace, flourishing a thin piece of paper, and 
 six slips of card. 
 
 “ I ’ll bet an 3 rthing you ’ll lose them as you did 
 when—” a great push from behind compromised for 
 an instant the equihbrium of the speaker, and stopped 
 the phrase. 
 
 “ If that nasty fellow outside would only open the 
 door !” gTumbles Mr. Paragreen, who feels horridly 
 hot—having, besides Emma and Arabella, three um¬ 
 brellas, four parasols, a large bag, and a wmterproof 
 garment to take care of. 
 
 The nasty fellow outside does not choose to open 
 the door, but continues calmly examining the nice 
 ci'owd inside, with the expressive eye of an amateur 
 of natural history, scrutinizing a collection of caged 
 wild beasts ; indeed, he hears yells from within, which 
 might lead any one to suppose that a menagerie was 
 waiting for first-class places. The survey over, he 
 takes a turn up and then a turn down, suddenly starts 
 off on some unknown errand, as if going away for 
 ever—dashes back like a thunderbolt—flings the door 
 open—hastily withdi’aws, and seeks safety in flight. 
 
6 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 The shout and rush that follow are tremendous— 
 the earth quakes as if under the tread of ten thou¬ 
 sand buffaloes. The Family keep their place at the 
 head of the race, they do not run, they fly—the 
 Derby’s won. “All right!” sings out Mr. Para- 
 green, pouncing on a carriage, the door of which is 
 half open. Tobo pushes in the ladies while his 
 father defends the dearly-bought conquest against all 
 invaders. “Now, papa !” cries Tobo from his seat. 
 Papa jumps on the steps in high . glee. 
 
 “ Complet, Monsieur ! ” says a voice from the in¬ 
 side. 
 
 A bucket of cold water thrown over his head, 
 streaming with perspiration, would have caused Mr. 
 Paragreen a less disagreeable surprise than this 
 politely-toned “ complet,” and the subsequent dis¬ 
 covery that in the carriage he had fondly fancied all 
 his own, were three unknown persons, a lady and tv/o 
 gentlemen. The one who had uttered the fatal sen¬ 
 tence was an elderly military gentleman, with large 
 grey moustaches and tuft, wearing a red rosette in 
 his button-hole. 
 
 “ Oommong, complette. Monseer?” asks Mr. Para¬ 
 green pugnaciously. 
 
 “ Comptez plutot. Monsieur ! ” answers he of the 
 red rosette, “un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, 
 
EN KOUTE. 
 
 7 
 
 huit.” There was no disputing the accuracy of the 
 reckoning. 
 
 It was hard to be thus ousted from a carriage 
 which he had in a manner conquered in the sweat 
 of his face, and wherein sat his wife, his only son, 
 and his three daughters—facts which, in Mr. Para- 
 green’s eyes, established as clear a right for him to a 
 place therein also, as if there existed a law to that 
 effect :—banished, too, at the bidding of an old grey 
 whiskerando of a Frenchman, with his trumpery bit 
 of red ribbon ! (]\Ir. Paragreen’s partisanship of the 
 
 French Alliance did not extend to French indivi¬ 
 duals.) Mr. Paragreen felt sorely aggrieved, as men 
 are apt to do when they find an unforeseen obstacle 
 suddenly interposed between themselves and their 
 wishes. He further considered it due to himself, as 
 the head of a family, to remonstrate, gently but 
 firmly, against this unjust separation. 
 
 “ Monseer ! ma femme—ma place ”—and then 
 he came to a full stop. 
 
 The formula was most comprehensive, no doubt, 
 but rather obscure to only commonly gifted minds. 
 Poor Mr. Paragreen ! he had in all good faith given 
 himself credit for being an excellent French scholar 
 —had been ostentatious, even rather bullying about 
 his French—and now not to have a word at com- 
 
8 
 
 THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 maud to throw at that grim old Gaul! The flutter 
 of his feelings had bewildered his memory. 
 
 “Plait-il?” said the Frenchman, having waited 
 with patience for another noun or verb to make clear 
 the little Englishman’s meaning. 
 
 Mr. Paragreen was going to try again, when “ En 
 voiture ! en voiture ! ” shouted the railway ofiicials 
 on all sides—bang, bang, bang went the doors. 
 
 “ Papa ! papa ! make haste—you ’ll be left be¬ 
 hind !” screamed all his darlings in chorus. 
 
 “ Que faites vous Ik, Monsieur?” cried a voice 
 with authority in its tones, “ aliens, into vagon, on 
 part!” and the half-distracted Mr. Paragreen was 
 seized, carried off, hurry-scurried from end to end of 
 the long train in search of a seat nowhere to be 
 found, until at last he was fain to be thankful when 
 he was literally hurled into a carriage, where he met 
 with about as friendly a reception as a housebreaker 
 would at his own Eden villa. 
 
 ■ As her husband was thus ravished from her sight, 
 Mrs. Paragreen started forward and thrust her head 
 and shoulders out of the window, following the eccen¬ 
 tric movements of the familiar little form with undis¬ 
 guised anxiety. When her upper portion reappeared 
 in the carriage, she curtly announced to her children 
 “ He’s all safe !” and then proceeded to some strange 
 
EN ROUTE. 
 
 9 
 
 manipulations of her stiff silk dress, by which she 
 managed not to sit upon it, but on a white garment 
 with a handsome bordering—technically called “ slip,” 
 we believe. This done, she settled down into the 
 gloomy majesty of a wife forcibly and unjustly be^ 
 reaved of her wedded lord. 
 
 The tenants of the carriage in which Mr. Paragreen 
 had found a timely refuge, were but three ; but they 
 had managed things so nicely, that not a square inch 
 of spare room was visible. The front seats were 
 occupied by two ladies in the full indulgence of that 
 horizontal line so dear to fair English travellers ; and 
 the whole of the back seats was engrossed by a 
 middle-aged Briton, hedged in on either side by a 
 fabulous outwork of carpet-bags, work-bags, dressing- 
 case-bags, leather hand-bags, books, baskets, cushions, 
 shawls, cloaks, wrappers, &c. Where was Mr. Para¬ 
 green to sit ? How was Mr. Paragreen to sit ? He 
 pushed aside some of the inconvenient convenien- 
 cies on which he had alighted, and burrowed down 
 to a seat, too full of his own grievances to notice the 
 signs of ill-will his proceedings excited in the owners 
 of the cloaks, cushions, &c. Mr. Paragreen was in 
 that state of exasperation which seeks an outlet; but 
 his tirades against the absurd bad management of 
 French railroads and the unfair treatment of the 
 
10 
 
 THE PARAGKEENS. 
 
 English, who paid their money for their places as 
 well as other people, fell flat;—even his attempts to 
 catch a sympathetic glance were defeated. There 
 was an evident determination on the part of his 
 companions to ignore his presence, and look as though 
 he were not. Nothing remained for him but to fold 
 his arms, shut his eyes, and strive to scrape together 
 a sufficiency of French phrases to form a powerful 
 speech, which he intended to deliver, on the first 
 opportunity, to the person he considered the usurper 
 of his seat. After a good deal of hard mental work, 
 Mr. Paragreen owned to himself that it was a hope¬ 
 less business :—exhausted by conflicting feelings, he 
 drew the blind across his own peculiar side-window, 
 put his head in the corner, and went to sleep. 
 
 Mr. Paragreen had achieved his fifty-fifth year 
 without having ever visited France, without, indeed, 
 even contemplating the possibility of doing so some 
 day. Not that Mr. Paragreen disliked France par¬ 
 ticularly, or that he lacked that dose of self-sufficiency, 
 the main strength as well as main peculiarity of the 
 English abroad ; but that travelling did not form one 
 of the items in his plan of life ; just as, perhaps, fox¬ 
 hunting or racing hold no place in that of yours or 
 mine. Mr. Paragreen had had the luck to make 
 money in the cork-trade, and the good sense to give 
 
EN ROUTE. 
 
 11 
 
 up business in time to enjoy his fortune. He had 
 once made a hit, a famous hit—the invention of that 
 celebrated, universally known, and universally accepted 
 machine, which cuts, rounds, and throws off a thousand 
 bottle-corks in the space of a thousand seconds. 
 
 To enjoy his well-earned otiiim cum dignitate, Mr. 
 Paragreen had shifted his quarters from the city to 
 the suburban Tivoli of Peckham, and set up quite a 
 stylish establishment at Eden Villa, with a man in livery, 
 and a boy in buttons, a double-bodied phaeton, and 
 great grey horse—armorial bearings on the phaeton, 
 crest on the harness, a governess, and tip-top singing- 
 masters for his daughters—in short, all the comforts 
 and elegancies of genteel life. Not that Mr. Paragreen 
 aimed at playing the fashionable, as hinted by more 
 than one of his less fortunate brethren, who made 
 great fun of the crest, with which he now invariably 
 sealed all letters and notes—not he, “ a self-made 
 man, a plain, practical, unpretending chap, with no 
 nonsense about him,” as he loved to describe himself 
 But his wife did—and he liked to humour her—and 
 why should not he ? After all, she had as good a 
 right to be fashionable as most people. She was a 
 Joliffe of Hackney, and if her father was a retired 
 drysalter, there had been an admiral in the family— 
 so at least ran the tradition—and there was an actual 
 
12 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 bwid fide living Alderman JolifFe, her first cousin, 
 who might any day he Lord Mayor. Now, as one 
 of that respectable stock of the Joliffes, Mrs. Paragreen 
 had a name to support, and duties to perform. Such, 
 for instance, as to have all letters and cards presented 
 to her on the salver bought for that purpose, and the 
 button-bespattered boy following at her heels with 
 the prayer-book, when she went to church. It was 
 this keen sense of what she owed to her country, to 
 her sovereign, to herself, and her maiden name, that 
 had made her feel the propriety of going to the Paris 
 Exhibition, on the auspicious occasion of Her 
 Majesty’s visit to the French capital. 
 
 This was her sole motive, and not, as hinted by 
 ill-natured people, the circumstance of her neighbour, 
 Mrs. Jones of Creeper’s Lodge, the wealthy widow of 
 the Russian tallow-merchant, having made it known 
 that she had written to secure apartments in the 
 Hotel Bristol, Place Yendome. Mrs. Jones preferred 
 waiting a week—she was sorry she could not be 
 present at the Queen’s entry into Paris, she wished it 
 could have been otherwise—but really she could not 
 venture on any other place than the Hotel Bristol. 
 
 To return.—Mrs. Paragreen had a vague impression 
 that something would be wanting to the satisfaction 
 of Queen Victoria and her imperial host, if the re- 
 
EN EOUTE. 
 
 13 
 
 presentatives of two most loyal families, siicli as the 
 Joliffes and the Paragreens, did not give evidence of 
 their respect, by following in the wake of the Head 
 of the State. Mr. ParagTeen shrugged his shoulders 
 at what he considered the amiable weakness of his 
 handsome partner, but did not argue the point 
 —one ought to humour one’s wife, you know. He 
 made but one condition—no men, no maid-servants ; 
 went to his banker, filled his purse—and here they 
 were, en route. 
 
 “ Montreuil Vert, cinq minutes d’arret,” cried the 
 railway guards. Mr. Paragreen bolted from his seat 
 on to the platform, and was by the side of the for¬ 
 bidden carriage, looking as disconsolate as the Peri 
 at the gate of Paradise, except when he tried to look 
 fierce at his antagonist of the grizzly beard. He re¬ 
 peated the same manoeuvre at Abbeville, Hangest, and 
 Amiens, where there was to be a stop of twenty minutes. 
 
 ‘‘ Je n’y tiens plus, I will not run the risk of 
 having my dreams haunted by that rueful face,” said 
 in French the military-looking gentleman, and, raising 
 the hand of the lady by his side most respectfully 
 to his lips, with a cordial pressure to that of her 
 fellow-traveller, he got out of the carriage, saying to) 
 Mr. Paragreen as he passed, “ Ma place est k votre 
 service. Monsieur.” 
 
14 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 Mr. Paragreen did not wait to have the invitation 
 repeated, hut jumped at once into the Frenchman’s 
 vacated seat. “Better late than never!” he ex¬ 
 claimed with a little sort of triumph. “I should like 
 to know what right that old French snipe had to sit 
 comfortably in a carriage, while we were being 
 battered to pieces in the waiting-room;—precious 
 unfair, for I am sure he wasn’t there no more than 
 these other people.” 
 
 “It’s a pity you didn’t find that out sooner, and 
 stand up for your right like a man ; you can crow loud 
 enough when there’s no danger,” was the bitter sweet 
 remark of the lady of Eden Villa. 
 
 “ Bless my heart, my dear,” responded Mr. Para¬ 
 green, a little crest-fallen, “ how is one to make one’s 
 self heard with those guards continually roaring ‘ En 
 voiture !’ and all that. In England, you know, I 
 would have had the matter sifted to the bottom, I 
 vmuld, in spite of his great moustache and red 
 ribbon.” 
 
 “ I say, Pa—suppose he had called you out ?” ex¬ 
 claimed Tobo ; “ he’s a regular old brick, I can see ; 
 it wouldn’t be easy to shut him up.” 
 
 “ I wish you wouldn’t make use of such lov/ slang, 
 Tobo,” said his father reproachfully ; “I wish you 
 would behave like a gentleman, sir.” 
 
EN KOUTE. 
 
 15 
 
 This impressive address put an end to a conversa¬ 
 tion which had caused the French lady and gentleman 
 to exchange many a look and almost imperceptible 
 smile. 
 
 “Is this Paris ?” asked Mrs. Paragreen some time 
 after, suddenly waking out of a nap. 
 
 Mr. Paragreen, who, of course, did not know, 
 turned to the strangers, and said most interrogatively 
 —“ Parisse ?” 
 
 “ Non, Monsieur, c’est Pontoise,” replied the gen¬ 
 tleman, in a courteous tone; “ nous serous h Paris 
 dans trois quarts d’heure.” 
 
 “ It isn’t Paris,” explained Mr. Paragreen to his 
 wife, “ it’s a place called Trocadero.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen nudged his elbow, and whispered, 
 “ Don’t speak to those people, they are vulgar.” 
 
 The French lady and gentleman exchanged another 
 look and smile. 
 
 Was it the lady’s plain travelling dress in excellent 
 taste, the complete absence of bouffans, crinoline, and 
 jewelry about her, or the kiss bestowed on her hand ; 
 or was it the husband’s polite haste in picking up 
 Mrs. Paragreen’s smart handkerchief, which had im¬ 
 pressed the lady of Eden Villa with a sense of their 
 vulgarity ? Who can tell ? We know for our own 
 part, that we were unmercifully cut dead all the way 
 
THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 IT) 
 
 from Turin to Chambery, by an Englisli couple, to 
 one of whom we had had the ungentlemanly weak¬ 
 ness to resign our rights in the coupd of the mail. 
 
 In spite of Mrs. Paragreen’s ominous predfctions 
 as to delay or danger, the train reached Paris at the 
 appointed hour, and the whole family repaired in 
 good marching order to the Salle des Bagages. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 BIVOUAC. 
 
 T took some considerable time to collect the 
 luggage of our party, which, exclusive of 
 what they themselves carried, consisted of 
 seven trunks, four carpet bags, and six 
 bonnet boxes. When Mrs. Paragreen went 
 to see with her own eyes that all was safe, 
 most dreadfully excited she became at missing one of 
 the trunks—the one with her own peculiar treasures. 
 It was no sooner found than Mr. Paragreeii suddenly 
 recollected, to his consternation and his wife’s uncon¬ 
 trollable anger, that, in his change of carriages at 
 Amiens, he had forgotten the umbrellas, parasols, 
 waterproof, &c., confided to his care. Leaving Tobo 
 in charge of the ladies and trunks, the poor little 
 man rushed back to the platform, and, more favoured 
 by luck than wisdom, recovered his property. Re¬ 
 turning to his anxious family, radiant with success, 
 B 
 
18 
 
 THE PAKAGEEENS. 
 
 he found a couple of octroi men, whose suspicion had 
 been aroused by the unprecedented number of trunks 
 and boxes belonging to the same party, insisting on hav¬ 
 ing at least one of them opened—an operation which 
 proved long and difficult, as no one of the keys fitted. 
 At last when porters presented themselves with their 
 customary cry of “ Commissionnaires pour les bagages!” 
 Mrs. Paragreen catching the word protested she would 
 have no commissionnaires,—even thrust her parasol at 
 one of them. This horror of commissionnaires origi¬ 
 nated in a firm belief, instilled into her by a dear 
 friend, a lady who had long resided in Paris, that 
 commissionnaires were disreputable characters,—in 
 short, go-betweens, whose sole business in life was to 
 carry love-letters ; and that never, under any pretext 
 whatever, ought respectable persons to have recourse 
 to them. 
 
 Fortunately this new difficulty was overcome by 
 the intervention of the railway official with “ Inter¬ 
 preter” embroidered on his cap, who, on being ap¬ 
 prized by Mrs. Paragreen herself of the cause of her 
 strange behaviour, said he would send some porters, 
 who were not commissionnaires—and so said, so done. 
 
 But, by this time, the last omnibus for conveying 
 travellers to Hotels had been gone more than half an 
 hour, leaving no other alternative than to send for a 
 
BIVOUAC. 
 
 19 
 
 couple of citadines, in which, after the family with 
 their addenda of small packages, four trunks, and 
 three carpet hags, had been placed, there still remained 
 three of the trunks, six bonnet boxes, and a carpet bag 
 to be disposed of; and a third citadine had to be 
 procured. “All right!” said Mr. Paragreen, in a 
 cheerful voice, after giving the address of the Hotel 
 where he intended to stop, and the three vehicles set 
 off, the bulk of the luggage in the first, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Paragreen with Arabella in the second, Tobo, Miss 
 Paragreen, and Emma in the third. 
 
 It was eight o’clock in the evening. Crowds of 
 people were sauntering in the streets and on the 
 Boulevards, glad to breathe the cool air of evening 
 after the sultriness of the day—crowds of people sat 
 enjoying their coffee and cigars in front of cafds— 
 crowds of omnibuses, hackney coaches, cabs, and pri¬ 
 vate equipages of every kind, crossed and re-crossed 
 in every direction. English, French, Sardinian, and 
 Turkish flags, were streaming out from shops and 
 balconies. Paris, in fact, was looking as lively^ 
 coquettish, and bewitching, as only Paris can look, 
 when she chooses. But most of the witchery of the 
 scene—keenly enjoyed, though, by the younger Para- 
 greens—was lost for the nonce on their respectable 
 parents, who sat with their heads out of opposite 
 
20 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 windows—one watching with anxiety the citadine in 
 the van—the other, the citadine in the rear. In 
 this attitude they reached the Hotel de la Cigogne, 
 Rue St. Honord;—recommended by Mrs. Paragreen’s 
 cousin, Alderman Joliffe, who had spent some days 
 there, and whose lips had pronounced the dictum of 
 “a clean, respectable, reasonable house,” so reveren¬ 
 tially inscribed in Mr. Paragreen’s note-book. 
 
 Mr. Paragreen being a practical man who left as 
 little as possible to chance, alighted and said he 
 would see the rooms with his own eyes, and settle 
 with the landlord, before any of the others got out, 
 or any of the boxes were touched. The head waiter 
 of the Hotel de la Cigogne, in shirt sleeves, white 
 cravat, and red slippers, was sitting astride a chair, 
 his face to its back, puffing away at a cigar. The 
 advent of the three citadines did not occasion any 
 change in his posture—he did not even wink, an 
 ominous sign indeed to the initiated. 
 
 Avez vous les appartemengs ?” asked Mr. Para¬ 
 green, walking straight up to this composed personage. 
 
 “ I am not shore,” replied the gentleman of the 
 shirt sleeves, languidly rising. 
 
 ‘‘ Je viens de Mr. Joliffe, Alderman of Londres,” 
 continued Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 This emphatic announcement made no visible im- 
 
BIVOUAC. 
 
 21 
 
 pression on Shirtsleeves, who shuffled his way to a 
 sort of wooden cage in the court-yard, tapped at its 
 window, exchanged some words with the person on 
 the perch within, and received a key. 
 
 Gis way, Sar,” and up a stair he pattered. 
 
 “ Premier dtage, s’il vous plaize,” said Mr. Para- 
 green benevolently. 
 
 Fust flour he is full,” replied Eedslippers, who 
 stuck as fast to his English as the retired cork-mer¬ 
 chant to his French, continuing his ascent as long as 
 there were staii^ to allow of the proceeding. Here 
 he ushered Mr. Paragreen into a tolerably-sized room 
 with two beds, and within which was a light closet 
 with one bed,—the furniture of both rooms scanty, 
 and not over clean. 
 
 “Trop haut et trop petitte,” observed Mr. Para¬ 
 green,—adding in an explanatory tone, ‘‘ manque un 
 lit pour douce.” 
 
 “Pour douze !” cried the Frenchman, startled for 
 the first time out of his phlegm and his English. 
 
 “ Pour douce,” affirmed Mr. Paragreen, putting out 
 two fingers. 
 
 “ Ah ! I comprehend, pour deux—verry good—we 
 put a matelas to the ground.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen hesitated a moment, and then 
 asked, “ Combien la prix ?” 
 
22 
 
 THE PAHAGREENS. 
 
 Two giiindes for night.” 
 
 “ Bless my heart! ” exclaimed Mr. Paragreen, in 
 his turn giving up his French in his amazement, 
 “ two guineas for such a hole !” 
 
 “It is to take or to leave,” said Shirtsleeves calmly. 
 
 “ Then I leave it, Sir,” said Mr. Paragreen tartly, 
 going down the many flights of stairs like an India 
 rubber ball, and repeating to himself, “ Bless my 
 heart! two guineas for such a hole !—wish you joy of 
 it, my man, wish you joy !” 
 
 “Won'?” inquired Mrs. Paragreen. 
 
 “ Impudent rascal! ” said Mr. Paragreen. “ Do 
 you know what he asked ? Only two guineas a 
 night! Two gTiineas, Ma’am, (laughing irately,) for 
 two dirty pigeon-holes at the very top of the house ! 
 -—they would be dear at half-a-crown ! Lucky that 
 I am not one to buy a pig in a poke.” 
 
 “ Oh aliens nous ? ” asked the coachman. 
 
 “ Chez motel,” replied Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 “ Quel Hotel ?” 
 
 “ Tous les Hotels,” answered Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 The Jehu, rather divining than understanding Mr. 
 Paragreen’s meaning, telegraphed to his two brethren, 
 and they all moved on down the Rue St. Honor^ 
 stopping at the first hotel they came to. Out went 
 Mr. Paragreen with the same inquiries for “ apparte- 
 
BIVOUAC. 
 
 23 
 
 mengs.” “ Plein comme im oeuf,” was the answer, 
 “try next door.” He did try at the next house, 
 and the next but one, and the next to that, and at 
 all the hotels in Rue St. Honor^, and received the 
 same answer everywhere. Not a hole to be had. 
 
 “ Very odd,” remarked Mr. Paragreen, beginning 
 to look blank ; “ I don’t understand it at all.” 
 
 “And it’s growing quite dark,” said Mrs. Para¬ 
 green ; “ the best thing we can do is to go back to the 
 Seegong.” 
 
 “ What ? go back to that dirty humbug of a 
 place 1 I would rather sleep in the street,” replied her 
 husband ; “it’s a man’s own fault, if, with money in 
 his pocket, and a tongue in his head, he does not 
 manage to find a good lodging for the night in 
 Paris.” 
 
 Since his French dialogue with the head waiter of 
 the Cigogne, Mr. Paragreen had recovered part of 
 that confidence in his own French powers of speech, 
 which had been somewhat diminished during his 
 railway journey. 
 
 “ Oil aliens nous ?” asked the coachman again. 
 
 “ Partout!” was the laconic rejoinder. 
 
 Up Rue Castiglione, and Rue de la Paix, down 
 Rue des Petits Champs, up Rue Vivienne, down 
 Rue Neuve des Augustins, went the doleful cara- 
 
24 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS. 
 
 van. In and out of the coach was Mr. Paragreen 
 every two minutes, as if for a wager;—^not a spare 
 room, not a closet to be had for love or money ;— 
 very tantalizing, when every second house, he plainly 
 saw, was a hotel. There really seemed to be a 
 general conspiracy to exclude our family from the 
 shelter of a roof. The Boulevard des Capucines, and 
 the Boulevard des Italiens proved, if possible, more 
 unfeeling than all the rest put together. The long 
 Rue de Richelieu had but one answer to the eager 
 and perpetual inquiry for apartments,—silent, often 
 frowning shakes of the head. The waiters had mani¬ 
 festly no patience to spare. 
 
 As eleven o^clock struck at the clock of the Palais 
 Royal, the three citadines came to a full stop in the 
 Place du Palais Royal. Mr. Paragreen was worn out 
 by exertion, and Mrs. Paragreen not in the best of 
 humours. 
 
 “Les chevaux sont fatigues,” said coachman No. 1. 
 
 “ Oh ! ah ! ” answers Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 “ Hotel de Seegong,” cried Mrs. Paragreen, roused 
 into taking the lead. The Hotel de la Cigogne being 
 near at hand, the coachman made no objection, and 
 drove thither. Shirtsleeves, with his white cravat 
 and red slippers, was sitting on the same chair, puff¬ 
 ing away at a cigar as before, in a reverie that pre- 
 
BIVOUAC. 
 
 25 
 
 vented his noticing the three citadines, or hearing 
 the voice of Mr. Paragreen calling to him from the 
 coach window. Mr. ParagTeen had to drink the 
 dregs of the cup of bitterness, and get once more out 
 of the citadine, and go up to the unruffled waiter. 
 “ Je prends des appartemengs,” he said. 
 
 “ No apartments now,” returned the smoker 
 laconically. 
 
 “ I mean the rooms you showed me two hours 
 ago.” 
 
 “ Gone—taken,” replied Shirtsleeves, sending forth 
 a remarkable column of smoke through his nose. 
 
 ‘‘ I will give two guineas and a half,” urged the 
 Englishman. 
 
 “Not for a oondred dousand pounds,” pronounced 
 the despot in red slippers. 
 
 The discomfited Mr. Paragreen had no choice but 
 to return to the carriage, and report progress to Mrs. 
 Paragreen, whose milk of human kindness was be¬ 
 ginning to sour. She received the sad intelligence 
 with a toss of the head, and an insinuation that, if 
 he had had the goodness to listen to her when she 
 had first proposed to come back to this hotel, ten to 
 one but they might have had the rooms. “ But no, 
 it is always the same with you, you must have your 
 own way, you must;—where the jeuce is the man 
 
26 
 
 THE PAEAGHEENS. 
 
 going now V This last burst of Mrs, Paragreen’s 
 eloquence was occasioned by the coachman driving 
 off without having received any orders. 
 
 “ Bless my heart ! how should I know ?” cried 
 Mr. Paragreen, popping his head out of the window, 
 and roaring “ Coch^re ! cochke !”—but the cocher 
 appealed to did not stop, until, followed by his com¬ 
 panions, he had once more reached the coachstand in 
 the Place du Palais Royal. 
 
 “ Les chevaux sont dreintds, Monsieur,” said the 
 driver, appearing at the door of the citadine. 
 
 “ Oui,” replied Mr. Paragreen knowingly. 
 
 “ Ils ne peuvent plus marcher,” continued the 
 coachman. 
 
 “ Oh !” ejaculated Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 “ Si cMtait une toute petite course, je ne dis pas, 
 mais aller comme 9 a an hasard, donner la ciiasse aux 
 hotels—” 
 
 “ Oui, oui,” put in Mr. Paragreen, catching at a 
 familiar word, “ aller h I’lioteL” 
 
 The coachman gave it up in despair, and returned 
 to the coachbox. 
 
 “ What does he say ?” asked Mrs. Paragreen. 
 
 “ Why, they all speak so fast, I can’t make it out.” 
 
 “ I am afraid you know very little French after 
 all,” observed Mrs. Paragreen. 
 
BIVOUAC. 
 
 27 
 
 Mr. Paragreen made no attempt to defend his 
 French ; he had given it up, renounced it, repented 
 of it. 
 
 “ That’s half-past eleven, I declare,” cried Mrs. 
 Paragreen—“ are we going to stop here all night, 
 Mr. Paragreen ?” 
 
 “ The coachman is mending something about the 
 harness, I think,” was Mr. Paragreen’s rather wild 
 supposition. 
 
 “ I’m sure he is doing no such thing,” said Mrs. 
 Paragreen, after a survey of the person in question. 
 
 “Coch^re !” called Mr. Paragreen, “aller k I’hotel.” 
 
 The cocher came down from his seat again, and 
 tried to persuade his helpless fare to send a com- 
 missionnaire to search for a night’s lodging for them. 
 
 The obnoxious word was no sooner uttered, than 
 Mrs. Paragreen, with the vivacity of a war-horse at 
 sound of trumpet, pricked up her ears, and vehemently 
 exclaimed,—No, no, I say, no commissionuaire,— 
 do you hear ?” 
 
 “ Eh bien ! alors restez Ik ou vous etes,” grumbled 
 the coachman, quite out of patience. 
 
 Apparently the three coachmen knew how to make 
 up their minds to an unavoidable evil, for they busied 
 themselves about their horses, got them hay and 
 water, and then climbed back to their seats, adopting 
 
28 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 the posture of men resolved to sleep, let what would 
 happen. Mr. Paragreen made two faint efforts to 
 rouse the driver of his own citadine, but was vigo¬ 
 rously repulsed, with an exhortation to go to sleep, 
 or at all events to let other people sleep. 
 
 In the meantime the noise and hum of the busy 
 city gradually hushed; one after the other the gay 
 shops and brilliant cafds put out their gas lights, and 
 put up their shutters, leaving fair play to the silver 
 radiance of the moon, now shining down as compla¬ 
 cently on the three benighted citadines, as if they 
 had not contained six forlorn houseless wanderers 
 from Peckham. In another ten minutes scarcely a 
 footfall broke the deep silence of midnight. The 
 reality of their situation—that is, the necessity of 
 bivouacking where they were—did not dawn on the 
 understanding of the parent Paragreens until the 
 ominous signs of the state of the world just men¬ 
 tioned, had, so to say, made palpable to them the 
 uselessness and folly of a further search after lodgings 
 for that night. 
 
 Then it was that Mrs. Paragreen, as some sort of 
 comfort, fell foul of her husband, who, by his stupid 
 notion of being practical, as she said, had exposed to 
 all the inclemencies and dangers of a night spent in 
 the open street, an innocent family, of whom he was 
 
BIVOUAC. 
 
 29 
 
 the natural protector; and who, but for his pig¬ 
 headedness, would have been by this time comfort¬ 
 ably in their beds—at least, they might have had a 
 ceiling, and not a coach roof over their heads; any 
 garret was better than a coach and a coachstand. 
 All she hoped was that this disgraceful way of spend¬ 
 ing their first night in Paris might not get wind. 
 It only wanted this to put them under that abomi¬ 
 nable Mrs. Jones’s feet for life. The very idea was 
 enough to make her swear never to go to Peckham 
 again ! 
 
 At this climax the little Emma and Arabella began 
 to cry, because they were hungry; and when Mr. 
 Paragreen, in an ungovernable terror lest he should 
 lose his way, had procured some cakes at a providen¬ 
 tial stall, bivouacking also at a corner of the Rue St. 
 Honord; the children then complained of being 
 thirsty, and had to be carried to the pump of the 
 coachstand; that done, they began to whimper that 
 they were sleepy, and that they could not sleep, 
 because they were afraid. And poor Mr. Paragreen 
 had to do and to bear everything, to cheer and coax 
 the little ones, to try to joke and make Mrs. Para¬ 
 green smile, to wander from citadine to citadine, 
 though foot-sore, in order to satisfy himself that 
 neither the one with Tobo and Ida—both fast asleep 
 
30 
 
 THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 —nor the other with the luggage, was giving him 
 the slip. And if by accident he sat quiet for five 
 minutes, and his eyes involuntarily closed, he had 
 immediately a nightmare of grizzly moustaches, red 
 rosette, and “ complets.” Poor Mr. Paragreen count¬ 
 ed every hour of that interminable night, and con¬ 
 sidered himself the most unhappy of living mortals ; 
 —little suspecting that hundreds and hundreds of his 
 fellow-countrymen, and fellow-creatures—as was really 
 the case—were faring at that identical moment as 
 badly as himself, and even worse—encumbering the 
 terminus of the various railroads, and lodging on 
 the cold ground ; though perhaps to lie down in any 
 way would have proved a relief to our harassed 
 hero. 
 
 At five in the morning, the coachmen having re¬ 
 covered their briskness and good-humour, the caval¬ 
 cade was again set in motion, and the search renewed, 
 and, after another two hours’ perambulation, they 
 had the good luck to reach the door of an hotel in 
 the vicinity of the Madeleine, as an English family 
 were taking their departure. This time Mr. Para¬ 
 green struck a bargain without insisting on a previous 
 view of the vacated rooms ; they proved to be high 
 up, small, neither over clean nor over airy, but Mr. 
 Paragreen was cured of his squeamishness. He 
 
BIVOUAC. 
 
 31 
 
 lauded the situation for being fashionable, but made 
 no mention of an advantage, which, perhaps, in the 
 present state of affairs, had greater weight with him, 
 — viz., that the landlord and waiters all spoke 
 English, and that the majority of the persons staying 
 in the house were English also. 
 
 After the luggage had been carried up to their 
 apartments (three small rooms), came the settling 
 with the coachmen for the use of their citadines 
 during eleven hours—twenty-one francs multiplied 
 by three, gave the amount of sixty-three francs, not 
 including drink-money. Mr. Paragreen paid the 
 money without the least demur, but in spite of the 
 assurances of landlord and waiters, looked on the 
 transaction as a downright robbery, and in this belief 
 will go to his grave. Thus practical Mr. Paragreen, 
 who would not give fifty francs to sleep in a garret, 
 paid sixty-three francs for a bivouac in the street. 
 
 The family were one and all worn out; so, after a 
 substantial breakfast eaten in their own rooms, they 
 adjourned to bed, where we leave them, wishing them 
 pleasant dreams. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Debut in Paris. 
 
 ^EiNViGORATED by twenty hours of sound 
 sleep, with only the casual interruption of 
 a tea as solid as the morning’s meal had 
 been, the Paragreens rose upon the follow¬ 
 ing day like giants refreshed, breakfasted, 
 made themselves smart, and then sallied forth, 
 phalanx-like, under cover of the famous round hats. 
 As they hop their way, three abreast, down Rue 
 Royale, and Rue Faubourg St. Honord, bent on a visit 
 to the Palais de 1’Industrie, (we use the verb ‘ hop ’ 
 advisedly, in our wish to figure forth as accurately as 
 possible the peculiar gait of the family—a hop and a 
 stride,) it may be as well to say a word of their 
 personal appearance. 
 
 Little, active, and supple, Mr. Paragreen, though in 
 reality born with the century, looks as if he had come 
 
DEBUT IN PARIS. 
 
 33 
 
 into the world at least twenty years later. His ste}) 
 is so elastic you might suppose his legs to be made of 
 some of his own best cork—his head vibrates from 
 right to left, and left to right, like a mandarin’s in a 
 tea-shop—he frequently comes to a dead halt, peeps 
 through a glass, pendant from his neck by a lilack 
 ribbon, surveys people and things with an eye of spe¬ 
 culation, and freely dispenses patronizing smiles. If 
 outward signs are to be trusted, we may set him 
 down as an honest, good-natured, self-satisfied, rather 
 pompous busybody. Dressed from head to foot in , 
 a yellow-greenish stuff, and with the most dimin¬ 
 utive and flattest of green hats, Mr. Paragreen for¬ 
 cibly suggests the idea of a lizard out for an airing. 
 
 Mrs. Theodora Paragreen, commonly called by her 
 husband “ Dora,” is a majestic woman of fifty, a 
 head taller than her husband, and would be really a 
 handsome creature but for her nose—a nose which 
 her nearest and dearest cannot idealize—a nose that 
 is a decided snub—a diminutive, undignified snub. 
 Mrs. Paragreen dresses showily, wears plenty of cri¬ 
 noline, massive gold bracelets, (a serpent and a chain 
 both of natural size,) and a profusion of costly gew¬ 
 gaws. In this display of finery, combined with a 
 certain toss of the head, in which she indulges occa¬ 
 sionally, you read the bad taste and pride of a par- 
 
 c 
 
34 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 venu ; in the quick glance and resolute carriage, a 
 hasty temper, and a good deal of determination. 
 
 Ida, Miss Paragreen, styled Da, is the flattered 
 portrait of her mother, (crinoline included,) with the 
 addition of a well-shaped nose, and the subtraction of 
 thirty years. She has large blue eyes, rich auburn 
 hair, and that beautiful complexion found nowhere in 
 such perfection as among healthy English girls. The 
 only fault to be found with her is her foot, which, no 
 doubt, is rather large ; but who cares about a hand¬ 
 some girl’s feet, particularly when fashion favours 
 long dresses h A gentle, happy disposition is all 
 that is legible on that smooth surface. 
 
 Tom, alias Tobo, is a tall, strong lad of seventeen, 
 with open, turn-down shirt collars, blue jacket, cap to 
 match, and half boots, into the perversely protruding 
 high backs of which his trowsers as perversely stick 
 themselves. He looks like an embryo Horse Guards¬ 
 man, gives himself the airs of a man, and “ won’t 
 be bullied.” 
 
 We leave undescribed the small fry, Emma and 
 Arabella, eight and nine years of age ; they have a 
 general resemblance to bantam chickens with befrilled 
 little legs. 
 
 Mr. Paragreen had his own reasons for choosing 
 to go to the Exhibition by the Rue du Faubourg St. 
 
DEBUT IN PARIS. 
 
 35 
 
 Honor^ instead of proceeding thither by the Rue 
 Royale, Place de la Concorde, and the Champs Elys^es. 
 IMr. Paragreen was a practical man, and had resolved 
 to kill two birds with one stone ; to speak without 
 metaphor, Mr. Paragreen had in his waistcoat pocket 
 two cards—the large conjugal card with— 
 
 “ Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen,” 
 
 “ Miss Paragreen, Eden Villa, Peckham,” 
 engraved in fine clear characters by Strongi’tharm ; 
 and in very minute letters, by Mr. Paragreen himself, 
 Hotel de rUnicorne, Paris,”—and his son and 
 heir’s bachelor card with “ Mr. Thomas Paragreen 
 both of which he meant to leave, and actually did 
 leave at the English Embassy in the Rue du Faubourg 
 St. Honord 
 
 “ Nobody can aocuse me of being a tuft-hunter, 
 thank God,” said our little friend, stepping back 
 lightly through the porte-cochere; “every one knows 
 I am a self-made man; but I respect my country, and 
 I look upon it as an Englishman’s duty to shew that 
 he upholds the representative of that country in a 
 foreign land.” 
 
 “Will the ’Bassador ask us to his house P’ in¬ 
 quired Tobo. 
 
 “ The Ambassador, sir,” replied Mr. Paragxeen, 
 with grave emphasis, “ may invite us on account of 
 
36 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 our being English and his fellow-subjects, to partake 
 of some of the festivities given in honour of our most 
 gracious Queen,—it is impossible for me to say 
 whether he will or not. We must not set our hearts, 
 however, on such vain distinctions, but look for—for 
 honest recreation and—and—all that, you know, 
 within ourselves.” 
 
 “ People make such a fuss about Paris,” said Mrs. 
 Paragreen in a disturbed voice, “ I am sure I see no¬ 
 thing so wonderful about the streets ; for my part, I 
 think the Edge ware Road beats this hollow.” 
 
 “It’s in the public monuments, my dear, that 
 Paris tops us,” returned Mr. Paragreen, fixing his 
 glass to his eye, “ monuments like this ‘ Elysde Im¬ 
 perial and he brought the whole party to a stand¬ 
 still,—“ the residence of his Imperial Majesty, Na¬ 
 poleon III.” 
 
 “ Can’t you call a building a building, Mr. Para¬ 
 green, and not talk of it as if it were a tombstone 
 was the lady’s interruption, while Tobo exclaimed, 
 “ Lor, Pa, I always thought young Nap put up at 
 the sign of the Tuileries.” 
 
 Before Mr. Paragreen could reply to his wife, or 
 reprove his irreverent son, Mrs. Paragreen started 
 violently, and pinching his arm, almost screamed 
 aloud, “ Good gracious me !—look, what a number of 
 
DEBUT IN PAKIS. 
 
 37 
 
 Turks !” and she pointed to the Zouaves, many of 
 whom issued at that instant from the guard-room of 
 the Palace. 
 
 “Ha ! indeed ! probably a Turkish regiment being- 
 formed in Paris, like our foreign legion, you know, 
 somewhere or other near Folkstone. Great compli¬ 
 ment the Emperor pays in having them about his 
 person,—excellent taste, I call it, to have his allies 
 to guard his own palace, eh !” 
 
 Thus conversing, they reached the Place Beauveau, 
 and were about to enter the Avenue Marigny, leading 
 into the Champs Elysdes, when a carriage and foim, 
 preceded and followed by out-riders, emerged at a 
 gentle trot from the Rue Miromenil, and went up 
 the Rue du Faubourg, in the direction of the 
 Barrik’e du Roule. 
 
 “The Emperor!” screamed Mrs. Paragreen, and 
 away the family rushed in hot chase. But run as 
 fast as they could, they could not manage to keep up 
 with the four horses, now going at a brisk pace. “ I 
 saw the back of his head,” cried Tobo, returning to 
 his panting mother and sisters, mopping his face, 
 which streamed with perspiration. “ No ; did you 
 now, ToboF’ exclaimed both the little girls ready to 
 cry, and with faces flushed and swelled by the heat. 
 
 “ Never mind, my dears,” said Mr. Paragreen, 
 
38 
 
 THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 “ we shan’t want for opportunities of seeing the 
 Imperial family, though, now I think of it, I am sure 
 it could not be the Emperor, because, in Paris, they 
 always beat the drum as he passes. But you must 
 let me look about me,” added Mr, Paragreen, stopping 
 short, and casting his eyes around—“ it strikes me 
 that, if we take to the left, it will bring us direct to 
 the Champs Elysdes and the Exhibition.” 
 
 I wish you would buy a map of Paris at once, 
 Sylvester,” said Mrs. Paragreen, “ then we should be 
 sure of what we are about.” 
 
 “ I have got a capital map here, my dear,” re¬ 
 turned Sylvester, tapping his forehead, where the 
 organ of locality is situated—“ no dog ever had a 
 better nose for game than I have for places—Didn’t 
 I tell you so ?” he continued with a swagger, as tliey 
 came to the Bond Point] in the Champs Elysdes, 
 opposite the Avenue Montaigne, at the entrance of 
 wliich were two Venetian masts, with streamers 
 ])earing the words, “ Exposition des Beaux Arts.” 
 
 “ There it is,” said Mr. Paragreen, pointing to the 
 inscription. Mr. Paragreen’s notions about the Ex- 
 liibition were rather misty, and of such nice dis¬ 
 tinctions as an Exhibition of Industry, and one of 
 the Fine Arts, he was entirely ignorant. With 
 unquestioning confidence he led the way into the 
 
DEBUT IN PAEIS. 
 
 39 
 
 Avenue Montaigne, looking first to one side, then to 
 the other, his glass a fixture to his eye, until he 
 descried a long wooden building with a yellow painted 
 fa 9 ade, whereon figured in large letters—“Succursale 
 de I’Exposition Universelle.” The word “ Succursale” 
 was not in our friend’s vocabulary, but “ salle ” was, 
 and what could “ Succursale ” mean, but a salle with 
 a handle to its name ? 
 
 “ Here we are all right,” cried Mr. Paragreen, 
 stiffening himself; “ now what would have been the 
 use of a valet de place or a map ? just money thrown 
 away. Tobo, you and Ida take Arabella between 
 you that she mayn’t be lost in the crowd. Emma, 
 give one hand to ma and one to me.” 
 
 “ And you mind your pocket-book, Sylvester,” said 
 Mrs. Paragreen—“ are you sure you have got it ? ” 
 
 “ All safe, my dear,” replied Mr. Paragreen, tapping 
 one of the numerous pockets by which his coat was 
 honey-combed. Crossing over, they made for the 
 Succursale, through the wide open portals of which, 
 however, they could not perceive any of that dense 
 crowd they had anticipated. Mr. Paragreen was 
 most agreeably surprised at not being asked for money 
 at the door, and with great gusto returned to his 
 purse the six francs he had had all ready in his hand, 
 observing, as he did so—“ In justice to our French 
 
40 
 
 THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 neighbours, we must allow that almost everything can 
 be seen in Paris gratis.” 
 
 The Snccursale was by no means remarkable for 
 the grandeur of its architecture, nor for the richness 
 or rarity of the articles exhibited. The building con¬ 
 sisted of a narrow long room, supported by wooden 
 pillars, and terminating in a raised circular-shaped 
 platform. Four rows of stalls, the size of Punch’s 
 show, containing china, glass, toys, cutlery, ormoulu 
 jewelry, straw-work, haberdashery, &c., extended 
 from one end of the space to the other, forming three 
 alleys or lanes, where visitors could perambulate at 
 their leisure. The roof being of glass, there was 
 plenty of light. 
 
 Though the Paragreens’ expectations were not 
 highly raised, having been forewarned by Alderman 
 JolifFe that the Paris Exhibition was nothing wonder¬ 
 ful, still the reality fell very short of even what they 
 had imagined. Tobo asked, quite surlily, what the 
 devil the French could mean by enticing people to 
 come to such a penny peep-show of a place ? Why, 
 the Crystal Palace would hold no end of such trumpery 
 holes one on the top of the other; and Mrs. Paragreen 
 declared it was only what she had expected from the 
 very beginning. Mr. Paragreen, who was in one of 
 his patronizing moods, contended that they were too 
 
d£bUT in PARIS. 
 
 41 
 
 difficult to please—it was small, certainly, but un¬ 
 commonly well arranged. “We must recollect we 
 are in France and not in England, my dears. I 
 said to Joliffe, when we were speaking on this very 
 subject—My dear sir, says I, they do what they can, 
 you know, and their efforts ought rather to be en¬ 
 couraged than otherwise. It is not fair to exact 
 from an infant learning to walk, what you have a 
 right to expect from a vigorous adult. Now industry, 
 manufactures, and all that in France are still in the 
 cradle. As to me, I confess this modesty, this want 
 of all attempt at rivalling us, pleases me much. 
 Now what fault can you find with this Rotunda, or 
 such straw work as this V —(putting up his eye-glass, 
 and stooping to examine a roll of ornamental straw.) 
 “It is not to be despised, I assure you. Bong, tr^s 
 bong,” added Mr. Paragreen to the owner of the stall. 
 “ Ha ! a buffet ! I see,” continued he of Eden Villa, 
 in the tone of a man recognising an old friend ; 
 “ excellent ! the wants of visitors most properly 
 attended to. Would you like a bun, Emma, and 
 you, Bella, what do you say ? will you have a glass 
 of wine or some lemonade, Dora *?” 
 
 Thus discoursing, observing, and eating buns, they 
 continued their tour of inspection; Mr. Paragreen 
 pertinaciously finding something at every step to 
 
42 
 
 THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 admire, or approve of; asking the price of this and 
 that, and, as was his duty as a practical man, noting 
 down the answer in his memorandum-book, but never 
 buying a pennyworth in spite of the repeated and 
 rather pressing invitations he received to do so. Mr. 
 Paragreen liked the locality, and felt quite at home 
 in it. 
 
 Their number, their round hats, the free and easy 
 manner with which they wandered about, surveying 
 everything as if they had bought and paid for it, 
 something eccentric in their gait, gestures, and gar¬ 
 ments, made the Paragreens the centre of attraction 
 to the few scores of loungers present, but chiefly to 
 the holders of stalls, who were more amused than 
 flattered by the unusual minute examination bestowed 
 on their wares. By the time the Macedonian phalanx 
 were off on their third journey, round the Succursale, 
 a species of acquaintanceship, by dint of gazing at 
 each other, had spmng up between the family and 
 the Exhibitors in general; and, in especial, with a 
 young, fat, jolly-looking fellow, who never failed to 
 salute their advent in front of his stand by deferen¬ 
 tial bows and smiles. 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen rather suspected he was making 
 fun of them—but Mr. Paragreen pooh-poohed the 
 notion—observing that the French were such sociable 
 
D^BUT IN PARIS. 
 
 43 
 
 odd beings, that they must needs converse by nods 
 and smiles as well as with their tongues. To this 
 particular jovial friend of his, Mr. Paragreen applied, 
 whenever he had any doubts to solve, or complaints 
 to make, always meeting from the Frenchman an 
 obliging explanation, or a still more obliging sympathy. 
 Mr. Paragreen learned, for instance, through this 
 channel of information, that the “ Machinerie,” as he 
 designated the Machinery Department, was in a 
 Galerie au bord de I’Eau “Ih bas dans cette direction,” 
 and that the English goods, which were nowhere 
 to be seen, had been placed, by the jealousy of the 
 French Commission, in a “ batiment oil n’allait per- 
 sonne.” Such unfair treatment had drawn forth a 
 burst of indignation from the questioner, softened 
 down, however, by the reflection, that it was the best 
 acknowledgment, after all, of England’s superiority. 
 Having also searched, without success, for the Crown 
 Jewels, which they all knew were in the Rotunda, 
 and for which six pair of eyes had been, for the last 
 half hour, peeping into every hole and corner, Mr. 
 Paragreen once more accosted his kind informant with 
 “ Les Diamangs du Couronne, s’il vous plait 
 
 “Ah ! les Diamans de la Couronne ?” with a sad 
 shake of the head from the jolly fellow, “ pas encore 
 arrives des Tuileries—no komme from Tuileries.” 
 
44 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 ‘‘ Comiiioiig from Tuileries ?” asked Mr. Paragreeii. 
 
 “ Tons les soirs—hall evening, the Diamans portds 
 aiix Tuileries—Diamans very costive, quinze millions 
 —I’Empereur put dem sous clef.” Here the rogue 
 drew a key from his pocket, and turned it in an 
 imaginary lock. 
 
 “ How mean and stingy !” cried Mrs. Paragreeii, 
 catching the Frenchman’s meaning, and quite angry. 
 
 “ Well I must own it is shabby,” pronounced Mr. 
 Paragreen gravely; he pondered a moment, then 
 laying his stumpy forefinger on the fat man’s arm, 
 slowly articulated, “ Pas bong, monseer, miserabel. 
 Anglais plus generousse.” So saying, he turned and 
 walked away, just in time not to see the jolly traitor 
 roaring with laughter till the tears rolled down his face. 
 
 “ Galerie Bour de Loue, s’il vous plait ?” asked Mr. 
 Paragreen, as he emerged from the Siicciirsale of a 
 passer-by. “Galerie quoi ?” asked the person so 
 addressed. “ Galerie de Machineries, s’il vous plait ?” 
 
 “ Tout droit, an fond de 1’Avenue, vous la voyez 
 d’ici,” said the man, his gesture more explanatory to 
 the Paragreens than his words. 
 
 Our sight-seers had not gone fifty steps in the 
 direction pointed out, before they lighted upon a set 
 of masons, lying on the ground in front of a half- 
 finished house, a good number of whom were eating 
 
DEBUT IN PARIS. 
 
 45 
 
 slices of melon. Mr. Paragreen came to one of his 
 sudden halts, and holding out his hand, as if taking 
 aim at the prostrate figures, he remarked with great 
 feeling,—“ Is it not sad to think that so large a pro¬ 
 portion, I might with truth say the immense majority, 
 of the French nation, understanding by that the arti¬ 
 sans and mechanics, are forced to live on pumpkin 'I 
 I had heard so, but I own that till this instant, when 
 I see the fact with my own eyes, I always thought it 
 a traveller’s story. Now this is one of the advan¬ 
 tages of visiting foreign countries. Travelling, Tobo, 
 my dear boy, I speak more to you than the girls, 
 because you are more likely to move about than they 
 are—travelling, I repeat, is a sort of—practical— 
 what shall I call it 1 —a sort of practical—not 
 theory, you know—in short, a most instructive thing. 
 Remark how thin these poor men are,” continued 
 Mr. Paragreen, taking as cool a survey of the work¬ 
 ing people as if they had been their own stones and 
 bricks ; “ I have not the least doubt the difference of 
 food has much to do with the greater muscular de¬ 
 velopment, and higher spirit of our own countrymen, 
 —for I believe no one has ever denied that one 
 Englishman is worth four Frenchmen,—a superiority 
 which ought not to make us proud, but thankful t(» 
 that Providence which grants abundance to our land,, 
 
46 
 
 THE PAEAGKEENS. 
 
 and ordained us to be the first nation in the 
 world.” 
 
 “ Suppose we wish them joy of their pumpkin, 
 and go on,” exclaimed Mrs. Paragreen. “ I don’t know 
 wdiere your eyes are, but I can see that these people 
 are looking at us in a very improper manner.” 
 
 “ Fancy, all fancy, Dora, I can’t believe anything 
 of the kind,” replied Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 However, it was no fancy of dear Dora’s, but very 
 sober reality. The melon-eaters did not at all relish 
 the close scrutiny of which they were the objects; 
 and their grins and grimaces, significant of impa¬ 
 tience, caused Mr. Paragreen to follow his wife’s lead, 
 though he persisted in murmuring, “Poor things, 
 they mean no harm, I daresay, but we won’t disturb 
 their humble meal.” 
 
 When the Paragreens at length reached the 
 Annexe, a new surprise awaited them, in the turn¬ 
 stile impeding their farther progress ; and Mr. Para¬ 
 green was further greatly taken aback and displeased 
 by a demand for six francs, as the price of admission 
 for himself and- his party. He paid, however, with¬ 
 out making any objection, as he perceived that every 
 person going in laid down a franc. 
 
 “ How this is just such a piece of inconsistency as 
 only Frenchmen are capable of,” quoth the disturbed 
 
D^BUT IN PARIS. 
 
 47 
 
 little man,—“ they give you free access to the prin¬ 
 cipal Exhibition, and then make you pay for the 
 secondary thing.” This was not the only incongruity 
 which Mr. Paragreen was yet to lay at the door of 
 the French nation on that day; for he no sooner 
 caught sight of the distant spot indicating the ter¬ 
 mination of the Gallery—such a perspective line as 
 brought at once a conviction of its extraordinary 
 length, and of the enormous amount and variety of 
 machinery it must contain—than he broke forth on 
 the same theme, and descanted with warmth on the 
 ridiculous disproportion between the main building 
 and this its mere accessory. Did the French want 
 to make believe, forsooth, that they were so in ad¬ 
 vance of all the rest of the world in machinery and 
 engineering, that they required for that single depart¬ 
 ment ten times the room that had been allotted for 
 manufactures and commerce ? 
 
 By degrees the little gentleman’s heat cooled as he 
 observed that a very ample space was conceded for 
 the display of the machinery of his country ; and he 
 said he was free to confess that this looked like fair 
 play. It is not our intention to enter into any par¬ 
 ticulars as to what most attracted the attention of 
 our family, or called forth their admiration. We 
 shall only note that they stood a long time before 
 
48 
 
 THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 every sewing macliine, and repeatedly partook of the 
 hot coffee and chocolate out of the same urns—accord¬ 
 ing to the label on them—from which the Emperor and 
 Ids royal guests had deigned to have cups filled, and 
 liad praised as excellent. They paid great attention 
 also to the carriage department; Mr, Paragreen very 
 busy comparing notes of those which had the prices 
 marked with those that had not; and to arrive at 
 the knowledge of the cost of these last, bustling 
 away to the different bureaux, a worry and a trouble 
 to every one he fell in with. The very largest en¬ 
 gines became also objects of his inquisitiveness; he 
 must be made to understand all their drift and 
 p(wver, and the expense of them. 
 
 So gratified were the family by their inspection, 
 that it was only a fresh outcry for buns from Emma 
 and Arabella, which made the seniors wonder what 
 o’clock it could be, and caused Mr. Paragreen to 
 l»ull out his watch. “ Bless my heart! we must 
 make haste or we shall be too late for the table 
 d’hote; it’s five o’clock, by all that’s good!” So 
 away they hurried by the first door they met, and 
 reached their Hotel, without deviating from the right 
 road, in high spirits, and in capital cue for their 
 dinner. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HERO-WORSHIP. 
 
 )HE Company staying at the hotel were 
 already assembled, and busily at work in 
 the dining-room, into which our Peckham 
 couple and their offspring were ushered ; 
 not the common one, as the waiter informed 
 them, but the “ reserved dining-room.” 
 
 A little awed by the silence pervading this apart¬ 
 ment, in strong contrast to the hilarious sounds 
 issuing from one opposite, and which, from the in¬ 
 scription of “Salle h manger” over its door, was 
 probably the unreserved or plebeian eating-room; the 
 new-comers seated themseves, on the chairs destined 
 for them, at the lower end of the table,—a trying 
 performance at any time, whatever the assurance of 
 the actors, but especially so when, as in the present 
 case, it takes place under the combined fire of twenty 
 pairs of eyes, 
 
 D 
 
 Mr. Paragreen tried to cloak his em- 
 
50 
 
 THE PAKAGEEENS. 
 
 barrassment by observing to Mrs. Paragreen, in a 
 half-whisper, that “ it was really a very pretty room,” 
 —a remark that brought upon him all the eyes 
 again, and a frown of great severity from the lady 
 on his left. 
 
 Though quite at a loss to account for the general 
 animosity displayed towards him and his, Mr. Para¬ 
 green made up his mind to leave the mystery un¬ 
 solved, and to eat his dinner,—a good example 
 closely followed by his wife and children. Scarcely 
 two minutes had passed in this agreeable occupation, 
 when, as if by magic, all the tongues were unloosed, 
 the present clatter being as unaccountable to Mr. 
 Paragreen as the stillness that had preceded it. Little 
 by little, as happens at table-d’hotes, the ice once 
 broken, conversation spread and became general,— 
 that is, every one talked, the Upper Endians among 
 themselves, and the Lower Endians among them¬ 
 selves. They were all English, at least all spoke 
 English ; and the prevailing topic was naturally the 
 Paris Exhibition. 
 
 Mr. Paragreen watched his opportunity, and, dur¬ 
 ing a moment’s lull, audibly observed, that, “ though 
 prepared for a disappointment by a friend of his, Mr. 
 Jolifie of Hackney,—he meant Alderman Jolifife, a 
 cousin of his wife.—well,—though prepared for 
 
HEKO-WOESHIP. 
 
 51 
 
 many wants, and for much meagerness, still he must 
 say, with regret say, that things were worse than he 
 believed possible. Compare the London and Paris 
 Exhibition ! why, where could any one find a point 
 of comparison 
 
 This opinion received the assent of all present, and 
 conquered for the speaker the goodwill of his hearers, 
 who, to say the least, had not shewn any preposses¬ 
 sion in Mr. Paragreen’s favour at first sight. 
 
 “ So small,” continued Mr. Paragreen, emboldened 
 by success. 
 
 “ Such a trumpery concern altogether,” chimed in 
 Mrs. Paragreen. 
 
 “Trumpery concern, madam !” repeated a gentle¬ 
 man in a white cravat and gold spectacles, sit¬ 
 ting exactly opposite the lady; “do you know, 
 madam, that the space covered by your triunpery 
 concern amounts to 140,000 square metres,—just 
 45,000 square metres, metres, madam, more than 
 our London Exhibition,—and that the number of 
 Exhibitors in this trumpery concern is not less than 
 25,000, seven thousand more than there were in 
 England 1 ” 
 
 “ I should never have thought it possible,” am- 
 swered IMr. Paragreen overwhelmed, and rather crest¬ 
 fallen, “ even taking in that monstrous machine 
 
52 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS. 
 
 gallery, so ridiculously out of all proportion with the 
 main building.” 
 
 “ I beg your pardon,” said the gifted individual in 
 spectacles, who knew all areas, all dates, all numbers, 
 and the length, depth, and width of all things, “ the 
 Annexe, which you call the Machine Gallery, measures 
 p?’e-cisely—” 
 
 A scream from Mrs. Paragreen cut short the 
 speaker’s calculations, and made every one start and 
 look at that lady. “ It’s frogs, Mr. Paragreen !— 
 frogs ! ” said Mrs. Dora, jumping up horrified at the 
 dish presented to her, and so jogging the waiter’s arm, 
 that he landed some of the obnoxious viands on the 
 . table-cloth. This asseveration excited a great consterna¬ 
 tion, particularly among the fair sex, and elicited some 
 cries of “ Abominable !” from the uglier gender. The 
 waiter swore by all the gods that the dish was innocent 
 of the charge, and consisted of a fricassde of pigeons, 
 (which, by the bye, Mr. Paragreen translated into 
 sacrificed pigeons,) and to prove his assertion, the 
 offended attendant carried the dish for inspection to a 
 dark-visaged, dark-mustachioed gentleman, occupying 
 the post of honour—that is, the head of the table— 
 who, after a glance said, “De fait, it is pigeon, any one 
 Can see,”—a sentence received with a hum that ex¬ 
 pressed satisfaction and gratitude towards the utterer. 
 
HEEO-WORSHIP. 
 
 53 
 
 “ Well, sir, I was about to give you,” said the gold- 
 spectacled dealer in facts, beginning where he had 
 left off, as soon as quiet was restored, “ I was about 
 to give yon a figure, an authentic figure—” 
 
 “ I can’t say anything about figures, sir,” inter¬ 
 rupted Mr. Paragreen, “ but one thing I do know, 
 and stick to—that is, that the Paris Exhibition is an 
 inferior business, and precious ill regulated—-upon 
 tliat point I hope you don’t mean to contradict me, 
 sir. Allow me one moment—what can you say in 
 defence of the charge of a franc a-head for admission 
 into the Annex, as you call it, while the entrance to 
 the main building is gratis ? I say it is just like 
 the French—no heads for business—” 
 
 ‘‘Who told you such nonsense V asked a dashing 
 young man, a London chemist’s assistant, whose well- 
 curled hair and whiskers retained a strong odour of 
 the hairdresser’s irons. 
 
 “ Sir,” said Mr. Paragreen with some dignity, “ I 
 am indebted to nobody for my information, I made 
 the discovery myself” 
 
 “ Then you haven’t been to the right place,” re¬ 
 marked the druggist, “ there is but one building and 
 one fee, my good sir.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen, who began to have some misgivings 
 of his own, was willing to let the subject drop, but 
 
54 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 his ill-inspired better half had a weight on her mind, 
 which unburden she must. 
 
 “ They are a shabby set from beginning to end, 
 that I always thought,” began Mrs. Paragreen sen- 
 tentiously, “ but they are meaner than I gave them 
 credit for.” 
 
 Tliis sentiment was received with universal stares. 
 
 “ Don’t you call it meanness, sir,” continued the 
 lady, nothing daunted, and turning her eyes full on 
 gold-spectacles, for the head of the country to be 
 having his diamonds carried back and forwards to 
 the Tuileries, and locking them up himself every day 1 
 that’s what I call down-right shabby.” 
 
 Oh ohs, and half suppressed laughter sounded on 
 all sides, subsiding, however, into silence, on the 
 gentleman at the top of the table inquiring what 
 was the matter. On being told, this good-looking 
 individual laughed long and loudly, the signal for 
 laughs from every one present except Mr. and Mrs. 
 Paragreen, who, by dint of striving to prove their 
 case, of cross-questioning, and being cross-questioned, 
 stood convicted at last of having mistaken a bazaar 
 for the Palais de I’lndustrie. 
 
 The next subject of discussion was Ristori. Have 
 you seen Ristori ? Yes—no—a man or woman ?— 
 is she French h No—a great actress—an Italian. 
 
HERO-WOKSHIP. 
 
 55 
 
 Oh !! This last oh ! from Mr. Paragreen, seemed to 
 imply that it would have been better for her if she 
 had been a Frenchwoman. 
 
 “ We must go and see this Ristoar,” observed he, 
 Msecenas-like, over Emma’s head to his wife. 
 
 “ Of course,” said the lady, fully concurring in 
 such a necessity. 
 
 “ Gro and see her in Mirra, Sir.” “ By all means 
 see her in Mary Stuart, Madam—beats Rachel all to 
 nothing in that part.” This last was the judgment 
 delivered by the young chemist. A fat, vapid 
 blonde—a literary character seated by his side— 
 simpered forth, “ Oh ! Rachel! ” but was over¬ 
 crowed by Mrs. Paragreen saying in her loud way, 
 ‘•We saw her in London :—my cousin took a box— 
 nothing so wonderful about her that I could find 
 out.” 
 
 “ Rachel,” pursued the fat blonde, pursing up her 
 mouth, and with a slight bend towards Mrs. Para¬ 
 green, “ is only fitted for a French audience;—to 
 me there is something so unchristian-like about her 
 acting, it was really painful to see her in Phsedre— 
 her love is the love of a pagan.” 
 
 “ Pardon me. Madam,” said a gentleman who up 
 to this time had not opened his lips, “ but surely it 
 would be much out of character, if, in representing a 
 
THE PAEAGUEENS. 
 
 .)6 
 
 pagan heroine, Rachel gave her the attributes of a 
 Christian.” 
 
 This remark was offered in that hesitating tone 
 which characterizes shy people, and therefore passed 
 quite unheeded. The world belongs to those who 
 take it, my dear friends, says an old Italian proverb, 
 and the proverb is right. 
 
 “Give me Jenny Lind,” went on the vapid lady, 
 as if no one had spoken. (“ Ah ! Jenny Lind!!” pa¬ 
 renthesized a bald round-headed gentleman from the 
 other end of the table, nodding enthusiastically at 
 the speaker.) “ Give me Jenny Lind,” and the fair 
 speaker threw her eyes up as if asking the ceiling for 
 the boon. “ Is there such another in the world ?— 
 the perfection of art and nature—nature and art so 
 cunningly blended in her that you have actress— 
 singer—passionate woman—gentlewoman—Christian 
 woman—the Beautiful, therefore the True—in short, 
 the—” here the speaker’s feelings spoiled her climax. 
 
 A salvo of syncopated ahs ! ehs ! ihs ! ohs ! broke 
 forth from all the ladies ; all the gentlemen striking 
 an emphatic chord of “charming!” all except the 
 shy one, who gave a discordant bass note that 
 sounded strangely like “humbug.” The dark gen¬ 
 tleman at the top of the table bowed to the fair 
 oratress. 
 
HERO-WORSHIP. 
 
 57 
 
 “ Rachel and Ristori,” said he slowly, in a sort of 
 general address, (all tongues were hushed, all clatter 
 of forks and knives ceased, all heads turned towards 
 the speaker,) Rachel and Ristori, it cannot be denied, 
 have each uncommon powers—one has this, the 
 other that quality—but, as the lady just now so 
 feelingly and clearly expressed it, they both want 
 that which makes the great charm of Jenny Lind— 
 a soul—a Christian soul,” 
 
 Pitt or Fox, in their palmiest days, never had such 
 an oratorical triumph; the ladies clasped their hands; 
 many eyes were moist, and handkerchiefs appeared ; 
 the male portion drummed on the table, making every 
 glass tinkle for joy. The shy dissentient alone drew 
 in his breath with a hissing sound, 
 
 “Who is the gentleman that spoke last ?” asked 
 Mr. Paragreen of his neighbour, the lady with the 
 severe frown. 
 
 “ His Highness the Prince of-. What is he 
 
 Prince of, my dear P’ whispered she to her husband, 
 who was on her other flank. 
 
 “ Hush ! ” whispered back the husband, “ the 
 Prince is looking this way, he will hear you.” 
 
 “ Prince of Something, Somewhere—a victim— 
 Russia,” murmured the lady in Mr. Paragreen’s 
 
 ear. 
 
58 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS, 
 
 “Bless my heart!” exclaimed our hero, his face 
 reddening—“ how awkward not to know these things 
 in time 1”—and he began tucking away the ends of 
 his black cravat,—“ I would have put on a white 
 neckcloth, at least.” 
 
 “Oh ! ” continued his informant, “ the Prince is 
 very affable, and not at all ceremonious.” 
 
 Tlie tremendous intelligence was forthwith tele¬ 
 graphed to Mrs. Paragreen, who was so stunned that 
 she felt an all-overness and very hot in the back, as 
 if she were going to faint—at least so she afterwards 
 declared—but could, nevertheless, summon presence 
 of mind enough to impart the news, in an awe-struck 
 whisper, to the rest of the family. So they had been 
 seated for an hour at the same table with a Prince, 
 a real live Prince, and knew nothing about it— 
 and been shown up too in such a ridiculous light. 
 Imagine yourself in the place of our friends, dear 
 reader, and then you may judge of the contention of 
 feelings racking Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen’s breasts. 
 Had it been only the Prince of Wales, or the Prince 
 of Prussia, or the Prince of Sweden, or the Prince of 
 anything you can put a name to, or append a figime 
 denoting so many thousand square miles, and so many 
 millions of inhabitants, the shock would have been 
 less. But Prince of Something 1 Somewhere ! the 
 
HEEO-WORSHIP. 
 
 59 
 
 Unknown, the Indefinite, the Illimitable, the Un¬ 
 fathomable—only think !! 
 
 The senior Paragreens, from this moment, tried 
 hard to atone for their past irreverence towards the 
 augnst presence, by those manifold silent tokens of 
 obsequiousness with which well-bred independent 
 people strive to propitiate a superior—and never did 
 sunflowers turn more constantly and amorously to the 
 great Luminary of Day, than the owners of Eden 
 ViUa to that sun which gilded and hallowed the re¬ 
 served dining-room of the Unicorn Hotel. 
 
 “It is not etiquette, I suppose, to leave before 
 His Highness ?” inquired Mr. Paragreen softly, of 
 his lady neighbour. 
 
 “ Oh ! dear, wo.” Tire emphasis placed on these 
 two words seemed to intimate, that if one of the 
 party had suddenly died of apoplexy, the corpse 
 could not have been removed, unless the Prince had 
 left the table. Mr. Paragreen’s query had been 
 suggested by the circumstance of the shy gentleman 
 making an attempt to escape at the end of dinner, 
 and being caught, and held by the skirts of the coat, 
 by the persons on each side of him, and warmly re¬ 
 monstrated with. 
 
 In the meantime, the Prince was grinning sweetly 
 to this lady, and then to that,—another biscuit ?— 
 
60 
 
 THE PARAGHEENS. 
 
 another glass of wine 1 —not another biscuit ?—no 
 more wine ?—Well—then His Highness may get up, 
 and move to the mantelpiece, against which he leans 
 in a classical attitude, one hand shoved daintily 
 within his waistcoat, his right leg picturesquely 
 crossed over the left. His Highness’s personal appear¬ 
 ance is certainly most prepossessing,—no wonder the 
 ladies dote on him. He is young, tall, and well 
 made, — his manners are easy and condescending 
 wdthout affectation,—his smile patronizing, yet not 
 haughty,—his toilette irreproachable, and quite free 
 from finery ; a brown dress-coat with velvet collar, 
 the sleeves so wide as to give a peep of the finest 
 and whitest of linen ; light fancy trousers ; open- 
 v/orked black silk stockings, and patent-leather 
 pumps ;—in short, as trim, tidy, and tasty, as if 
 he were just about to appear on the stage, in the 
 character of a m^an of fashion. Now seen between 
 his rich black satin tie, and the velvet collar of his 
 coat, now lost under a white waistcoat of a simple 
 military cut, meander two broad blue ribbons, at 
 the lower junction of which you can discover, when 
 the wearer leans forward, something glittering,— 
 the insignia of one favourite order, among innumerable 
 others His Highness has a right to wear. 
 
 It is in the attitude just designated as classical. 
 
HERO-WORSHIP. 
 
 61 
 
 that His Highness usually holds his little levee, and 
 receives little homages, while coffee is being served. 
 The privileged mortals who have the honour of a seat 
 at the upper section of the table, near His Highness, 
 —an honour only conferred by seniority, except in the 
 case of the Honourable Ananias Small whey and his 
 three charming daughters, who have made the ac¬ 
 quaintance of His Highness in London,—these privi¬ 
 leged mortals, we say, group themselves to the right 
 and left of the Prince, just as we see, at the opera, 
 the grandees and high dignitaries group themselves 
 round Mario^ or Lablache, with this only difference^ 
 that the present grandees do not sing. While this 
 is going on, the less fortunate occupants of the lower 
 section, drawn up in a row on the opposite sides of 
 the table, move slowly towards the chimney, make 
 their bows or courtesies, and then retire to the rear 
 of the privileged body-guard. This is the usual 
 moment for the presentation of new-comers. 
 
 The Paragreens looked most perplexed, but help 
 was at hand in the shape of the bald round-headed 
 Jenny Lindite. “ Wish to be introduced, eh ? Very 
 well,—what name ? Paragreen. Good,—make three 
 bows, and don’t speak first. Where is the other 
 gentleman P’ The other gentleman, the shy one, 
 was now^here to be found, and ^vas given up. Great 
 
62 
 
 THE PAKAGEEENS, 
 
 is the flutter of heart of our worthy Paragreen, as, 
 preceded by the self-elected Master of Ceremonies, and 
 followed by his palpitating family, he moves, and 
 they move, towards the august presence,—the centre 
 of attraction to all eyes. 
 
 His Highness returns bow for bow to Mr. Paragreen, 
 —waves off aU apologetic explanation,—advances 
 with regal grace towards Mrs. Paragreen,— compli¬ 
 ments Papa and Mamma on their “beautiful” family, 
 (with a condescending stare at pretty Ida, who blushes 
 portentously.) “ Such a charming addition to our 
 small social circle,” says His Highness. 
 
 “ You belong to a country. Sir,” turning full on 
 little Paragreen, on whom he looks down from his 
 six feet superiority,—“ you belong to a coimtry. 
 Madam, (all ears are on the alert, all necks on the 
 stretch,) which, allow me to say, is entitled to my 
 best wishes. It is on England, Sir, on England alone, 
 that I rely for the vindication of my rights, trampled 
 upon by wanton tyranny—and that wanton tyranny. 
 Sir, a cousin ; Sir, a cousin, (profound sensation.) 
 But let us turn to a more agreeable theme. I shall 
 never forget the words which dropped from Royal lips 
 at Windsor—was it at Windsor or at Osborne ?— 
 Prince—these were the words—you may depend on 
 England, and on England’s Queen,” (renewed synco- 
 
HEUO-WOESHIP. 
 
 63 
 
 pation of ihs! ohs! iihs!) “Did I say ‘ Queen V I 
 regret having, in the warmth of my feelings, named 
 a name which I ought reverently to have withheld 
 —I mean by this, Sir and Madam, that you are wel¬ 
 come, very welcome. I like and respect English 
 people. I have many friends among your country¬ 
 men. And when, on my first coming to Paris, 
 another august person—you will pardon my not 
 being more explicit — offered me rooms in the 
 
 Tuil-, no matter where, why did I respectfully 
 
 decline this honour ? Because I feel nowhere so at 
 home, as I do among the English.” (Murmm’S of 
 applause.) “I hope I shall have the pleasure of 
 seeing more of you.” And, with a slight bow, His 
 Highness returns to the mantelpiece, and gracefully 
 sips the remains of his cup of Mocha. 
 
 Now follows a dissection of the Court Circular of 
 the day. Her Majesty going to Versailles during the 
 week, a grand fete there—the King of Piedmont 
 cannot come to Paris, and why not—the Grand 
 Duchess has had a headache. His Highness raises 
 his eyebrows and shakes his head with sadness ; but, 
 at this point of interest, the company is interrupted by 
 the appearance of a long-bearded servant, gorgeously 
 dressed in a half Eastern garb, bearing a salver, with 
 a huge despatch on it. A gentleman in black lifts it 
 
04 
 
 THE PAEAGREEHS. 
 
 off the salver, and hands it to His Highness, who begs 
 pardon with a sweeping bow, breaks the seal, and 
 reads :— 
 
 “ Ladies and Gentlemen, I must now leave you. 
 Though dethroned, I have still some state affairs ” 
 (with a smile) “which call for my attention—so, 
 ladies and gentlemen, adieu !” And followed by 
 the richly-draped attendant, and the gentleman in 
 black, amid bows, courtesies, and smiles, exit our 
 illustrious Highness—shaking his sides with laughter, 
 perhaps '?—Not at all;—erect, composed, majestic, 
 leaving behind him, as it were, a track of glory. So 
 the curtain drops. 
 
 Ladies and gentlemen, we say in our turn, do not 
 denounce the picture as overdrawn. Such farces are 
 performed any day of this enlightened nineteenth 
 century in Paris, in London, at Vienna, no matter 
 where the stage, amid the applause of crowded 
 audiences, and to the final discomfiture of credulous 
 innkeepers, purveyors, tradesmen, and such small fry. 
 Yes, such baits are offered, and eagerly swallowed ; 
 and will be offered and swallowed to the end of time, 
 
 till-the bells of our fool’s cap give warning that 
 
 this is neither the hour nor the place for moralizing. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 SHORT BUT INSTRUCTIVE. 
 
 ELL, Mr. Paragreen, I hope you are satis- 
 ^ fied,—thanks to your famous bump of 
 A locality, a fine d^ut you have made us 
 
 make before His Royal Highness ! It’s a 
 
 miracle that, with such a grand protuber- 
 
 ^ ance, you can keep a hat on your head, 
 —I wonder at it,—I do indeed.” (Mr. Paragreen 
 drooped his offending head.) “ His Highness must 
 set us down for a parcel of thorough blockheads. You 
 are enough to vex a saint, that you are !” 
 
 With running this tilt at her husband, Mrs. Para- 
 green varied the monotony of their ascent to their 
 garrets. 
 
 “ The Prince is too much of a man of the world, 
 too sensible, my dear,” said Mr. Paragreen, in a 
 conciliatory voice, “ not to make every allowance for 
 strangers. I plead guilty to having blundered, but 
 
 E 
 
66 
 
 THE PAEAGKEENS. 
 
 grant me the benefit of extenuating circumstances. 
 I defy any one not to have been deceived by such an 
 unaccountable concatenation of- 
 
 “ No—no one but a self-conceited, obstinate booby 
 like you would ever have been so taken in. If it 
 hadn’t been for your maudlin nonsense about France 
 and Frenchmen, and your genius for being made a 
 fool of by the first jackanapes you come across, Tobo 
 and I would have found out fast enough that we 
 were wrong. I suspected it all along. But you 
 must always have your own way,—you always know 
 best, you know,—you can’t be mistaken in people.” 
 
 The allusion to his friend in the Succursale seemed 
 to offer to the strategic little man a favourable oppor¬ 
 tunity for a diversion, at which he eagerly caught. 
 
 “ As for that good-for-nothing puppy, who made 
 game of us,” he said, blustering, “he had better keep 
 out of my way ; for, by jingo, if ever I catch him. 
 I’ll squeeze his love for bamboozling the English out 
 of his body,—that he may depend upon, as sure as 
 my name is-.” 
 
 “ For goodness’ sake, Mr. Paragreen, let’s have no 
 more of your tomfooleries—buy a map of Paris, and 
 let us find our way by it, that’s the best thing you 
 can do. All we must hope is, that our ridiculous 
 mistakes won’t reach Peckham. I have no wish to 
 
SHOET BUT INSTRUCTIVE. 
 
 67 
 
 be a laughing-stock at home as well as abroadand 
 so saying, the lady went into an inner room, banging 
 the door after her. 
 
 “ Your mother may say what she likes,” remarked 
 Mr. Paragreen, left alone with his children, “ but as 
 for me, I really don’t regret the time we spent in the 
 Succursale. Besides the advantage of our now having 
 a point of comparison to go by, I declare on my 
 honour, that I learned more of French character and 
 manners in those two hours, than from all the travels 
 I ever read, put together. You see, Tobo, my boy, 
 a practical man is like—what shall I say ?—like a. 
 bee, a busy bee, drawing honey from every flower ; 
 he turns to account even disappointments, looking on 
 them as warnings, that the greatest prudence and 
 foresight do not exempt him from the common lot 
 of humanity.” 
 
 “ May I ask if we are going to stay in this stifling 
 place the whole evening asked Mrs. Paragreen, 
 sulkily, as she emerged from the recesses of the inner 
 room. 
 
 Mr. Paragreen cheerfully proposed a walk to the 
 Champs Elysdes, as the best place to get a breath of 
 fresh air. Mrs. Paragreen feared that it might be 
 too fatiguing for Emma and Arabella, who declared 
 they could walk any distance. 
 
68 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 “We shall find plenty of seats there, my dear,” 
 observed Mr. Paragreen ; “ and if the girls are tired, 
 we can take a coach home—there’s no lack of 
 carriages in Paris, whatever else is wanting.” 
 
 With this understanding off they set, three abreast, 
 as usual, to the Champs Elys^es, to enjoy the cool of 
 the evening, as the phrase goes, but in reality to be 
 choked by the dust, and jostled and hustled by a 
 motley crowd. 
 
 The fine proportions and tasteful decorations of the 
 Place de la Concorde, did not produce much effect on 
 our sight-seers ; the youthful part of whom, however, 
 were surprised into uttering little cries of delight, by 
 the beautiful chestnut trees of the Terrace of the 
 Tuileries, and by the fountains playing on each side 
 of the obelisk. At sight of this, Mr. Paragreen 
 brought up all sail, standing to calculate how many 
 inches higher or lower than the monument of London 
 it might be ; scrutinizing the characters and figures 
 inscribed on the granite with so knowing an air, that 
 the still sulky Mrs. Paragreen asked him whether 
 he wished to make the passers-by believe that he 
 understood “herryglyphs.” “ Heroglyphs,” corrected 
 Mr. Paragreen sedately. “ Herry, or hero doesn’t 
 much signify,” retorted Mrs. Paragreen tartly, “ it 
 ends in iph, I know,” 
 
SHORT BUT INSTRUCTIVE. )9 
 
 The amateurs of the fresh evening air were so 
 numerous, and the space allotted to pedestrians so 
 much encroached upon by the occupants of chairs, 
 that Mr. Paragreen saw the necessity of modifying 
 the order of march of the little phalanx, and gave the 
 order to move in twos ; Ida and Tobo in the first 
 rank, Emma and Arabella supporting them, while he 
 and Mrs. Paragreen, in the rear, represented the 
 heavy artillery. This division of forces gave rise to 
 three separate dialogues, some scraps of which we 
 caught, and wrote down. 
 
 Mr. Paragreen .—“ Very pleasant indeed ! a little 
 over-crowded, though—no low company—one might 
 really fancy one’s-self in a drawing-room ; all people 
 of a certain rank, I take it.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen .—‘‘ As far as dress is concerned, 
 it is very well—but I am sure I can’t see any of the 
 French grace everybody talks of, nor a pretty face 
 either. There are lots of carriages, but the half of 
 them are hackney-coaches—it spoils the coii'pe Poih 
 don’t it ?—they ought not to be allowed. These 
 sort of things are much better managed in England.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen thinks they are. “ The French 
 have no aristocracy, you know; no real aristocracy,” 
 (with a sad shake of the head.) 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen .—“ So much the worse for them, 
 
70 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 SO much the worse for them. I wouldn’t give a pin 
 for a country without an aristocracy. I wonder 
 whether the Prince is here. Is that him in the 
 carriage and four, with an outrider 
 
 Mr. Paragreen. —‘‘ No, don’t you see there’s only 
 a lady in it ? Somebody belonging to the Imperial 
 Court, I suppose.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen. —“Perhaps that Princess—what’s 
 her name ?—His Highness was talking of—Ho! the 
 Grand Duchess of Bagdad.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen. —“ Baden, Baden, my dear.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen. —“ Lor, Mr. Paragreen, how you 
 do worry about trifles, Baden or Bagdad is much the 
 same—you know who I mean, very well. After all, 
 it was a piece of luck our not getting in at that 
 Seegong. We might never have known His High¬ 
 ness but for that ] so I don’t mind a bit now having 
 had to sleep in the streets, in them what d’ye call 
 ’ems—so handsome, so accomplished.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen. —“ Bears the stamp of royal birth 
 on his countenance, and in his manners.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen. —“ And so affable too!—What a 
 monkey-looking little monster !” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen. —“Who ? the Prince?” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen. —“Good gracious, no—there, that 
 man on the grey horse, who looks so mightily pleased 
 
SHOET BUT INSTEUCTIVE. 
 
 71 
 
 to see us. I daresay he could present us at the 
 Court here.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen. — Who, my dear ? — oh ! the 
 Prince, I have no doubt he could.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen. —“ You had better call and leave 
 a card on him. I should so enjoy getting to Court; 
 it would be as good as poison to Mrs. Jones. Do 
 you see that black and yellow livery?—very bad taste.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen. —“ No accounting you knovv^, Dora 
 my dear, for tastes—eh ! when you swore for better 
 for worse—eh ?” (Silence.) “ I trust and hope, and 
 almost expect, that we shall receive an invitation to 
 the Embassy. I think it is our due. Ha ! Exposi¬ 
 tion des Fleurs—a flower show : we must go there 
 of course by daylight. Bless my heart! what a 
 crowd ! I am half stifled. What’s that building 
 over the way there, I wonder, with so many flags !” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen. —“ Can’t you see ?—Palace of 
 Industry. I am sure its name and itself are big 
 enough. There’s the British flag—it makes me feel 
 all I don’t know how, to look at it hanging there 
 so far from home.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen. —(hugging his wife’s arm.)—“ It 
 does, it does, my dear. You are right, that’s the real 
 Exhibition—not so grand after all, but rather neat.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen —(with a good-natured smile.)— 
 
72 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS. 
 
 ‘‘We shan’t lose our way to the Exhibition again, 
 now we have the British lion for a guide.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen —(keeping the plump arm tightly 
 within his own.)—“ I hope not. You are rather 
 hasty, my dear little woman, but your heart is a 
 treasure, it is.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen. —“ Gracious me ! I am in a per¬ 
 fect state of perspiration.” 
 
 Emma. —“ What a number of booths ! it’s like a 
 fair ! Oh ! there’s Punch, I declare.” 
 
 Arabella. —“ Look at those roundabouts — how 
 nice ! The boys have horses to ride, and the girls go 
 in boats. I would rather ride, wouldn’t you ?” 
 
 Emma. —“ Oh, Bella, just see what a lovely little 
 carriage drawn by goats ! I wish mamma would 
 give us a drive in it.” 
 
 Arabella. —“ Don’t ask. It cost so much to bring 
 us all here, papa said. I wonder what that man is 
 selling : he has got a string of glasses round his neck, 
 and something like an organ covered with red velvet 
 on his back. Oh ! I see what it is now, it’s a pump 
 full of lemonade.” 
 
 Emma. —“ How curious to hear every one talking 
 French!—children less than me—it seems impossible 
 they can understand it.” 
 
SHORT BUT INSTRUCTIVE. 
 
 73 
 
 Arahella. —“ Look at that lady in white before us. 
 She sticks out more than Ma or Da, doesn’t she ?” 
 
 Emma. —“ Yes. When we are grown up we may 
 
 wear as much bustle as we choose.” 
 
 Ida. —“ How gay and pleasant! isn’t it, Tobo ?” 
 
 Toho. —And so horribly hot and dusty too ! I 
 hope you don’t mean to say you think it equal to 
 Hyde Park and the Serpentine. There isn’t a 
 carriage here to compare to any of the grand London 
 ones.” 
 
 Ida. —Now look at that one passing, and that 
 other with the big grey horses. I am sure they are 
 quite perfect.” 
 
 Toho. —“ Perfect, indeed !—poor little Da ! she 
 does not know much about horse-flesh—how should 
 she ? I’ll tell you what I do like though. Da—it’s 
 the Cafd Chantangs—there—don’t the girls look like 
 a nosegay of roses ? It would be much pleasanter 
 to sit and hear them sing, and have some beer, than 
 all this pushing and squeezing.” 
 
 Ida.—^^ Oh, Tobo !” 
 
 Toho. —“ Well, what’s there vulgar in beer ? 
 How short and ugly all these Frenchmen are! 
 What does that nasty little puppy mean, I say ? ” 
 (looking defiant.) 
 
74 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 Ida .—“ Don’t, Tobo, don’t stare so at people, you 
 always do.” 
 
 Toho .—“ I won’t be bullied by any one, least of 
 all by a French frog. What the deuce makes them 
 wear a tuft of hair on their chins like a goat’s beard ? 
 I hate it, don’t you. Da % ” 
 
 Ida .—I don’t think it is ugly when it is soft 
 and silky, and not too big. ” 
 
 Tobo .—“Like that fellow’s, I suppose, who is 
 staring his eyes out at you, eh, Ida % ” 
 
 Ida —(blushing scarlet.)—“ Oh, Tobo ! what non¬ 
 sense !” 
 
 Tobo’s remark applied to a smart little individual, 
 whose light whiskers and tuft on the chin, expressive 
 glances and sweet voice, had for some time captivated 
 pretty Miss Ida’s attention. But how could she 
 know anything about his voice if he were alone, as 
 was the case % exclaims some hypercritical reader. 
 Ah, simple reader ! for simple you must be not to 
 know all the resources a throng like this can furnish 
 to a love-smitten swain. The honest truth then is, 
 that the shepherd in question, not contented with 
 pressing his hands together as if squeezing an ima¬ 
 ginary lemon, or with sucking the gilt knob of his 
 cane in the most sentimental way at Miss Paragreen, 
 had made a pretence of being drifted by the swelling 
 
SHOET BUT INSTRUCTIVE. 
 
 75 
 
 tide of walkers close to the young lady, and once 
 there had sighed in her ear a “ Bi-yu-ti-ful ! ” so 
 sweet, that the most mellifluous of flutes could never 
 have come up to it. Now, when a damsel of twenty, 
 whose heart has not yet spoken, hears herself pro¬ 
 nounced “ Biyutiful ” in this mysterious way by a 
 trim, good-looking, well-fed, well-clad gentleman of 
 eight-and-twenty or so, it naturally throws her into 
 a flutter of spirits. And if the admirer’s manner 
 borders on the theatrical—if the bows of his narrow 
 neck-tie project so far right and left as to suggest the 
 image of a walking T—what does it matter ? Is it 
 perchance the most unaffected and truest actors on 
 the stage of love who are the most successful, we 
 should like to know % 
 
 Meanwhile our family had reached the Bond 
 Point to have a view of the Arc de I’Etoile, which 
 they had entirely overlooked during the morning’s 
 hot chase after the Exhibition. In this they were 
 foiled, however, for it was already dark. Emma 
 and Arabella whispered that they were tired. 
 
 “ We’ll get chairs, then,” said Mr. Paragreen ; 
 ‘‘upon my word, I shall not be sorry to sit down 
 myself, I am so hot. How do you feel, Dora ?” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen agreed that she should also like a 
 rest. They therefore retraced their steps in search 
 
76 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS. 
 
 of chairs—namely, of six unoccupied chairs. Now 
 they could almost as easily have found six vacant 
 thrones : one of the peculiar charms of Paris during 
 the Exhibition being, that whenever you particularly 
 wanted a chair, a coach, or a seat in a Cafd, Restau¬ 
 rant, or Theatre, no matter which, or where, or what, 
 you were sure not to find it. 
 
 a Very odd, though,” exclaimed Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 “ Not odd at all,” replied Dora peevishly ; “from 
 the moment you said there would be plenty of seats 
 I ought to have known that the case was hope¬ 
 less.” 
 
 “ But, Dora, dear—” 
 
 “ Don’t dear me, pray, but beckon to a coach, and 
 let us get home as fast as we can ; there’s plenty of 
 tliem^ luckily.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen bellowed “ cochke,” at the in¬ 
 numerable vehicles passing, without making any 
 distinction—it was too dark indeed to see which 
 were public and which were private—but to no 
 purpose ) everything on wheels was either full, or 
 unattainable. Most of the coachmen went on their 
 way without appearing to notice the Englishman’s 
 urgent call, a few more civil telegraphed a negative. 
 Poor Mr. Paragreen, the most disconcerted of men, 
 turned toward his wife, who sympathizingly, and not 
 
' SHORT BUT INSTRUCTIVE. 7 7 
 
 at all sarcastically, remarked, “ No want of coaches 
 in Paris, whatever else is wanting, eh ?” 
 
 ‘‘ But, my dear Dora, is it my fault if they are all 
 engaged 
 
 At this crisis, little Emma dropped on the pave¬ 
 ment crying, and Arabella followed her example— 
 the children could not, and would not keep on their 
 feet any longer. Extreme evils call for extreme 
 remedies. Mr. Paragreen took up Arabella in his 
 arms, ordered Tobo in a tone that admitted of no 
 reply, to carry Emma, and thus they trudged back, 
 jEneas-like, to the Hotel—Tobo grumbling and 
 stumbling; Mr. Paragreen panting like a high- 
 pressure engine; Mrs. Paragreen inveighing against 
 her husband, against the good-for-nothing little 
 hussies, against the Exhibition, and against Paris, 
 while poor Ida limped by her side, crying like a 
 child. 
 
CHAPTER yi. 
 
 THE EXHIBITION. 
 
 E are happy to begin the present chapter 
 fUJU Ijy p) with a more agreeable sketch from nature 
 than that with which it was our painful 
 
 duty to close the last. On the sofa, in the 
 soi-disant salon, the largest of the three small 
 
 ^ rooms allotted to our family, sits Mr. Para- 
 green, Ida, with one of her hands in his, is on one side 
 of him, and Tobo on the other; Emma kneels on the 
 parental lap, wiping away with her own little pocket- 
 handkerchief, the effects of bodily exertion on a close 
 August morning from the good man’s brow; and 
 Arabella, who has squeezed herself in between Tobo 
 and his father, is patting his face caressingly, saying, 
 “ Poor pappy, poor pappy, how hot he is! ” A 
 painter, who could have done justice to this group, 
 would have produced a charming picture. 
 
 Mr. Paragreen, as may be inferred, is just come 
 
THE EXHIBITION. 
 
 79 
 
 ill from an early walk, and is giving his children an 
 account of what he has been able to achieve. First, 
 he had been to Galignani’s, and bought a capital 
 map and Guide of Paris—so for the future no fear 
 of their being led astray ; then he had gone to the 
 box-office of the Italian theatre, and, by almost mira¬ 
 culous good luck, found two tickets just brought back 
 by a gentleman and lady suddenly telegraphed for from 
 Brussels; finally, on his way home, he had chanced 
 on a fiower-market quite near the hotel, and bought 
 for Ma that beautiful bouquet of moss roses lying on 
 the table with the Guide. ‘‘ And so, my dears, you 
 must manage to amuse yourselves this evening as 
 well as you can, while mamma and papa are at the 
 play.” 
 
 “Do they sing and dance at the Italian play, pa?” 
 asks Emma. 
 
 “ No, my dear, it’s acting.” 
 
 “ Oh !” says Arabella, more advanced in worldly 
 knowledge than Emma, “ I thought Italian people 
 always sung.” 
 
 “ That’s at the Opera, you silly child,” says Tobo. 
 
 “ Quite true,” says Mr. Paragreen, “ but this 
 evening it is to be acting, little Emma ; and the 
 people will speak to each other, as we all do, you 
 know.” 
 
80 
 
 THE PAKAGEEENS. 
 
 “ Do they quarrel too, papa ?” 
 
 “ Sometimes, my dear. Well then, my poppets, 
 as the play would not do for little folks, who would 
 be sure to fall asleep : Da, like a dear girl, as she is, 
 stays at home to take care of sisters, and Tobo stays 
 to see that no one runs away with Da,” pinching her 
 blushing cheek; “and to-morrow, if we are all good, 
 why, we’ll go and dine—at Corazza’s, in the Palais 
 Royal.” 
 
 The two little girls clapped their hands in delight; 
 Ida looked pleased, and Tobo, whose countenance 
 hitherto had been clouded over, brightened up. 
 From the time the trip to Paris was decided on, 
 Corazza had been a sort of promised land, to which 
 the Paragreen family were one day to have access ; 
 and the imaginations of the younger members had 
 ever since been busily at work in that direction. 
 Corazza was the Parisian hobby-horse of Alderman 
 Joliffe. “ If you wish for a good dinner, old fellow,” 
 that magnate had said to Paragreen, “let Very and the 
 Friars Prove and So alone, and you go to Corazza’s.” 
 
 At this moment Mrs. Paragreen joins the party, 
 and is saluted by four merry voices, singing out 
 together, “We are to go to Corazza’s to-morrow, ma!” 
 Mr. Paragreen rises, shakes himself free, and presents 
 tiie moss roses, with a most gallant air, to his lady. 
 
THE EXHIBITION, 
 
 81 
 
 saying, “ This is for you, Dora dear, ain’t they 
 lovely ? ” 
 
 “ Beautiful—and this for you,” says the lady, 
 giving her husband a hearty kiss. 
 
 “ I have got a . Guide and map, my dear, and a 
 couple of tickets to see Eistori this evening—she 
 plays her best part, Mirra—now, haven’t I managed 
 well ?” 
 
 “ Charmingly ! but you always do, Sylvester, when 
 you put your mind to a thing. Thank you, I am 
 so pleased.” 
 
 It is easy to read in the beaming countenance 
 Mrs. Paragreen turns on Mr. Paragreen, that her 
 incessant pecking at her husband is a mere constitu¬ 
 tional tic, a gymnastic exercise, necessary to her 
 health perhaps, but which, after all, does not inter¬ 
 fere in the least with her affection. In this happy 
 disposition of mind they go to breakfast, and then 
 sally forth, bound for the Exhibition. 
 
 People may talk as they like about missing the 
 gigantic proportions of the transept of the London 
 Crystal Palace, as well as the stately leafy veterans of 
 Hyde Park, humbled to a modest size by the Babel¬ 
 like height of the glass dome above ; still it cannot 
 be denied, that.this Paris Palace of Industry has a 
 magical spell of its own, which holds fast all who 
 
 F 
 
82 
 
 THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 pass its portals. Look at the ensemhle from one of 
 the Galleries, and then say if there be no temptation 
 to cry aloud, “ Upon my word, this is beautiful.” 
 
 Such, indeed, was the feeling of the Paragreen 
 family, on their first entrance into the Palace; and 
 for some little time after, they fiuttered about in a 
 sort of enthusiastic bewilderment. When, however, 
 they came to examine the contents in detail, they 
 discovered no ends of deficiencies, and plenty to 
 criticise—the task is so easy !—Nevertheless, they 
 found more yet to admire j so much so, that Mr. 
 Paragreen did not once begin speechifying on the 
 comparative merits of the two Exhibitions, but con¬ 
 tented himself with repeatedly declaring that “ it 
 was a move in the right direction.” As for the 
 ladies, from Mrs. Paragreen down to her smallest fac¬ 
 simile, Emma, they were all sight,—devouring with 
 their eyes those beautiful bracelets, and those lovely 
 veils—and it was “ Oh, Ma ! look at this,”—and 
 “ Ida, come here—did you ever see anything so like 
 cobweb ?” In the Lyons Silk Department, Mrs. and 
 Miss Paragreen stood long transfixed before a doll 
 as large as life, dressed in a ball-costume, which 
 shewed how far and wide fashion can go—the two 
 comparing notes, and scanning and studying the 
 puppet’s attire with the utmost gi’avity. Mr. Para- 
 
THE EXHIBITION. 
 
 Vi 
 
 oo 
 
 green, at last, forced them away to tlie Stereoscopes, 
 where he was in his full glory, explaining and des¬ 
 canting. 
 
 But the fullest measure of time—sixty minutes, 
 without the deduction of a second, a delicious hour 
 of enjoyment, was given to Giroux’s toys, the me¬ 
 chanical baby, which called out papa and mamma, 
 the bleating goat, the nibbling rabbit, and especially, 
 and above all, the fiddle-playing monkey, the identi¬ 
 cal graceful creature, if we are not mistaken, which 
 had such success with His Royal Highness Prince 
 Albert, that he became its ever-to-be-envied possessor. 
 Nor must we forget that most portentously capacious 
 of French grenadiers, who, without so much as a “ Fi 
 fa fum,” swallowed Russian soldiers ad infinitum^ 
 laying them with relish on his tongue, as if they had 
 been so many sardines—a truly national contrivance, 
 that ought to have secured to its inventor a great 
 gold medal, at least, if the Jury had had a spark 
 of patriotism in them. 
 
 The honours of the day were, however, for the 
 Crown Jewels, those darling “ Diagmongs,” as Mrs 
 Paragreen always styled them, and to get more than 
 one sight of which, the rush about them being tre¬ 
 mendous, mother and daughter cheerfully sacrificed 
 the swelling volume of their flounces and crinolines, 
 
84 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 which came out of the jostle beaten down, like ripe 
 corn after a thunderstorm. The Diamans de la Cou- 
 ronne were, as every one may remember, the culmi¬ 
 nating point of attraction of the Exhibition—one more 
 proof, if any were wanted, of that admirable and in¬ 
 fallible instinct of the masses for what is truly grand, 
 and noble, and beautiful. 
 
 Such the objects which principally attracted the 
 notice of the fairer portion of our family, such the 
 sights which afforded them the most unmitigated 
 satisfaction. By this we do not mean to insinuate 
 that those of the stronger sex were insensible to the 
 same charms. By no means. Mr. Paragreen and Tobo 
 enjoyed the silks, and velvets, and dolls, and dia¬ 
 monds, extremely; but they were not exclusively 
 engrossed by them, both father and son having indi¬ 
 vidual preferences of their own. Tobo, for instance, 
 doted on cannons, rifles, revolvers, yataghans, and in 
 general on all engines of destruction, explaining cm 
 amove their use and destination, and horrible effects, 
 to his sisters. Mr. Paragreen’s taste, to use his own 
 words, was for “ the useful and cheap, my dears, all 
 that tends to the improvement of the working 
 classes,” and, consequently, down into his note-book 
 went all the prices marked on cheap articles. He 
 was even about to begin a philanthropic speech on 
 
THE EXHIBITION. 
 
 85 
 
 this subject, but Mrs. Paragreen cut it short by say¬ 
 ing— 
 
 “Yes, yes, Mr. Paragreen, we know what you 
 mean, but it’s too hot here for holding forth. Do 
 let us go and seek for something to eat and drink,— 
 I am ready to drop.” 
 
 Off set our six pilgrims in search of a buffet, and 
 after getting entangled among pianos and organs, all 
 hard at work—losing themselves in alleys of meer¬ 
 schaum and amber—and getting bewildered in laby¬ 
 rinths of long-cloth and broad-cloth—they at length 
 reached the precincts allotted to creature comforts. 
 “How nice!—how refreshing!—what dear little 
 tables ”—and so they seat themselves. 
 
 “What shall we order ?” asks Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 “As it is only once in a way, let us do the thing 
 handsomely,” returns Dora, in a queenly manner, 
 “ and finish off with ices.” 
 
 They were not, however, so engrossed by their 
 agreeable occupation, as to be insensible to a sudden 
 swell and heave of the human sea rolling by, nor to 
 the sudden crash and break of the living waves in ono 
 direction. “ The Prince ! the Prince !” cried voices 
 far and near, and many of the pretty little tables 
 were instantly deserted. Up jumped our friends at 
 the sound—some with spoons, some with napkins— 
 
86 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 darting away, heads down, heels up, like mad bulls 
 in a china shop, and pursued by a detachment of 
 alarmed waiters. 
 
 “Where is he ?” gasps Mrs. Paragreen, swinging 
 her napkin violently. 
 
 “ Here, Dora, here !” cries Mr. Paragreen ; and in 
 his precipitation, running against, and trampling, and 
 crushing the tender toe of a French captain of Spahis, 
 just from Africa. The agonized captain bolted forth 
 the most tremendous oath imaginable, winding up 
 with a “ Sacre Bedouin, va ! ” and an angry scowl, 
 which, to say the least, suggested the expediency of 
 an apology. Now, not to have saved his life, could 
 Mr. Paragreen in his flurry remember any French 
 phrase to the purpose; however, with a simple bon- 
 liommie not to be withstood, he exclaimed, “ Anglais 
 —Allid, you know,” nodding his little green-covered 
 head. The effect was instantaneous. A smile made 
 the military gentleman’s moustache quiver, as he 
 grumbled, that “ ce n’^tait pas une raison but he 
 was disarmed. This trifling incident, which would not 
 have graced these pages but that it gives another 
 illustration of our hero’s presence of mind under diffi¬ 
 culties, did not prevent him and his party from being 
 one of the foremost on the passage of Prince Napoleon, 
 and receiving in return for their bows and courtesies 
 
THE EXHIBITION. 
 
 87 
 
 the coveted nod, which made them delighted with 
 him, and with everybody, and everything belonging 
 to His Imperial Highness, white bournous included. 
 
 But this was only a foretaste of the pleasures in 
 store for our family on this auspicious day ; for no 
 sooner had they emerged from the Palace into the 
 Champs Elysdes, on their way to the Flower Show, 
 (after having honestly returned spoons and napkins, 
 and settled the bill for the luncheon,) than they per¬ 
 ceived at a glance, by the thick double row of people, 
 and carriages lining each side of the avenue, that 
 some great sight was at hand. What had been con¬ 
 jecture was made certainty by a smartly-dressed young 
 man, whose light moustaches and tuft had been already 
 recognised in the distance by one of the Paragreens’ 
 party. By chance or design this person reaching Mrs. 
 Paragreen’s side, took upon himself to appease her 
 curiosity by imparting the information, that their 
 Majesties were expected to pass almost directly on 
 their way to the Tuileries. In such moments of 
 thrilling expectation even a Joliffe of Hackney, you 
 know, may waive all etiquette, and allow herself to 
 be addressed by a stranger. Besides, he was such a 
 perfect gentleman, observed Mrs. Dora, afterwards— 
 so very useful, and obliging, getting chairs for them 
 to stand on, helping the children up so kindly. Here 
 
88 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 Ida blushes like the rosiest of Auroras—who knows? 
 —perhaps her pendant hand had received some little 
 ^tender touch, which mamma knew nothing about. 
 Mrs, Paragreen surmises that he is a person of quality. 
 
 By and bye their Majesties appear, and tho Para- 
 greens are in an ecstasy—the ladies fluttering their 
 handkerchiefs, while father and son hurrah themselves 
 hoarse. The crowd is grinned at by a long retinue 
 of lords and ladies-in-waiting, equerries, maids of 
 honour, aides-de-camp, and ministers of state; these 
 last manipulators of the European olla-podrida being 
 easily distinguished from the rest by a broader grin 
 on their faces, which seems to say, “ With what sauce 
 would you like to be served up, good folks, eh ?” 
 
CHAPTER VIL 
 
 MOEE TEEATS. 
 
 OW, then,” cries Mr. Paragreen, as a last 
 huge cloud of dust, raised by the Imperial 
 horses, hid the godlike pageant from vul¬ 
 gar eyes, “Now then for it.” But this 
 was sooner said than done. 
 
 Imagine Fleet Street, or London Bridge, 
 only much larger, during the busiest hours of day, 
 ploughed in all directions by omnibus, private carriage, 
 hackney coach, cab, cart, grooms with led horses, and 
 dandies on hired horses—all tearing this way and that, 
 with that extreme care and regard for pedestrians which 
 characterizes riders and drivers of all countries—in this 
 respect Paris has nothing to envy London—and say, 
 whether to get to the Flower Show on the other side 
 of this crowded carriage-way of the Champs Elysdes, 
 was not fraught with some danger to our worthy 
 hero, his wife, and four children. Mr. Paragreen, 
 
90 
 
 THE PAKAGEEENS. 
 
 nothing daunted, with that instinct for strategy 
 which distinguished him, bade the family form in 
 single file, Tobo at the head, the little girls in the 
 centre, himself closing the line. 
 
 In this order they attempted the passage several 
 times, but were always beaten back in disorder. The 
 worst of the business was, that in the last advance 
 Tobo, with the rash thoughtlessness of his youth, 
 gave the company the slip, and with more than one 
 narrow escape of being cut in two, or crushed to 
 atoms, reached the opposite shore unharmed, and 
 stood beckoning to the others to come over—as if it 
 were not an affair of life and death. 
 
 A new attempt was foiled as the others had been. 
 Mrs. Paragreen grew hot and angry, Emma and 
 Arabella became frightened and stupid, and Mr. 
 Paragreen was ready to tear his hair, when a voice 
 close by was heard exclaiming—“ Est ce Men vous. 
 Milord ? ” At this fascinating sound, Mr. Paragreen 
 raised his eyes to see the happy mortal so addressed, 
 and in so doing met the sparkling black eyes of—guess, 
 imaginative reader—why, of His Highness the Prince 
 of Something, Somewhere; who, on the driving-box 
 (jf a beautiful britzka, with the reins of a beautiful 
 pair of horses in his princely hands, was bowing to 
 him in the most condescending manner possible. 
 
MORE TREATS. 
 
 91 
 
 Could the Prince have called him—Mr. Paragreen, 
 Milord ? There could not be the slightest vestige of 
 a doubt he had ; for His Highness was impatiently 
 dismissing a person standing on a front wheel of the 
 carriage, with one hand on the splash-board, and the 
 other on the Prince’s arm, and who had very much 
 the look of detaining the august driver against his 
 wish. 
 
 His Highness hands the reins to one of the two 
 well-got-up footmen in the back seat, whispers his 
 obtrusive friend, pushes him aside, and nimbly jumps 
 down on the pavement. “ How are you to-day, 
 Madame ?—seen their Majesties pass, of course— 
 looking fatigued—found your cards—thank you— 
 never return visits, Mr. Pappagreen—I could not— 
 I have no time, you understand.” 
 
 The persons so addressed were overwhelmed by 
 this condescension, and quite ready to drop on their 
 knees. Mrs. Paragreen was twitching her head 
 about to see if the standers by were remarking them. 
 
 “Do you know the gentleman who was speaking 
 to me ? The Prefect of the Seine—the same as your 
 Lord Mayor. A good-hearted fellow, though rather 
 troublesome : offers to make me gain fabulous sums 
 —only five thousand down with a certainty of the 
 gain of a million. A golden opportunity for men of 
 
92 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS. 
 
 capital like you, Mr. Pappagreen. I am a Prince 
 without a capital—ha ! ha ! you take me. I have 
 learned, you see, to joke about my misfortunes.” 
 
 Here His Highness met glances of the sincerest 
 and most admuing sympathy. 
 
 ‘‘ But my sorrows have taught me another lesson, 
 —to feel for others. You might have heard me 
 begging of the Prefect—yes—I am always begging— 
 quite a beggar. Ha, ha ! ” 
 
 The Paragreens receive this statement with a 
 chorus of ohs ! and ahs ! 
 
 “ I have a family—understand me—not my own 
 —your country-folks—-most excellent, respectable 
 people, I assure you—once kept their carriage—sad 
 reverse of fortune—reduced to a few hundred a year 
 —almost to beggary—a most affecting case. Well 
 —I have set on foot a sort of subscription for them 
 —^wish to Heaven I could do it all myself, but I 
 must be patient ! Now, Mr. Pappagreen—now, 
 dear lady, will you not assist another charming father 
 and mother 
 
 The Paragreens will be only too happy to contri¬ 
 bute their mite. 
 
 “ Ah ! I knew you would—English hearts never 
 appealed to in vain. Can I be of any use ? where 
 are you going ?—to the Flower Show ?—afraid to 
 
MORE TREATS. 
 
 93 
 
 cross, my little maid (chucking Emma’s chin) ? 
 Shall I take you over in the carriage ? ” 
 
 The Paragreens, in a tumult of emotion, fear to 
 intrude. His Highness insists, lifts the children him¬ 
 self into the carriage, then assists in Mrs. and Miss 
 Paragreen, and springs in after them, beckoning Mr. 
 Paragreen to follow his example. The whole fry are 
 ready to jump out of their skins for joy. Nothing 
 is wanting to the perfect bliss of our excellent couple, 
 but that Mrs. Jones should see them in their glory, 
 and the word Prince” emblazoned in letters of fire 
 on His Highness’s back. 
 
 “ A great fete at Versailles to-morrow,” says the 
 Prince. 
 
 “ Scarcely necessary to ask if His Highness is 
 going,” simpers innocent Dora. 
 
 “ Of course he is,” intimates the high Potentate, 
 with a grave bend of the head,—“ he must.” 
 
 They are almost at the Flower Show—such an 
 opportunity may never present itself again. ‘‘Now 
 or never,” thinks Mrs. Paragreen to herself, and then 
 exclaims passionately—“ Oh, dear ! how I do envy 
 your Highness,—what wouldn’t I give to get a 
 ticket!” 
 
 “Really, now—it would make you so happy!” 
 replies the Prince, with a compassionate benignity.— 
 
94 
 
 THE PARAGKEENS. 
 
 “I am afraid it is next to impossible—the tickets 
 must be all distributed by this time.” 
 
 Even if they are, Mrs. Paragreen firmly believes 
 if His Highness would only say a word, one word 
 for them,—who could refuse His Highness 1 Really, 
 the speaking face of our Dora of Peckham, at this 
 instant, beats Ristori’s for expression. His Highness 
 silently acknowledges the potency of her look, and 
 the cogency of her argument ; for he meditates— 
 then says, while helping the lady to alight— 
 
 “We shall try. Madam, at all events; if we do 
 not succeed in this, we may for something else as 
 good. Perhaps, Mr. Pappagreen, you would not mind 
 talking the matter over with my Secretary—he knows 
 better than I do myself what I can or cannot do.— 
 By the bye, I dine at Prince Jerome’s to day, and 
 probably I shall meet the Great Chamberlain. But 
 really I must leave you.—Good-bye and he raises 
 his hat as gravely as any crowned head could do. 
 Then Jupiter, followed by six pairs of wondering eyes, 
 the two belonging to the recovered Tobo included, 
 climbs up to his lofty seat, seizes the reins with one 
 hand, waves his whip with the other, and disappears 
 in a cloud of dust, in the direction of—Olympus, 
 perhaps. The Paragreens step into the garden, Mrs. 
 Paragreen leading the way with the carriage of a queen. 
 
MORE TREATS. 
 
 95 
 
 “ I say, Sylvester, what do you think of my little 
 rooz day gare 
 
 “ In fact, my dear, I was quite wonderstruck at 
 your”— impudence was on the tip of his tongue, but 
 he changed it in time to—“ presence of mind.” 
 
 “Now confess, dear boy, that but for your wife 
 you would never have had a chance of being as good 
 as at court.” • 
 
 “ Better not count our chickens till they are hatched, 
 my dear,” observed “ dear boy ” sententiously. 
 
 “ What is the use of throwing cold water on 
 things, Mr. Paragreen ? if you had a spark of proper 
 pride about you, you wouldn’t speak in that way.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen bobbed his head down into a great 
 bush of azaleas, which Ida called him to look at. 
 “ Are they not beautiful, mamma ?” 
 
 “Very pretty indeed, my dear,” says mamma, who 
 glances at them with the greatest indifference. When 
 a lady has been escorted in the great avenue of the 
 Champs Elysdes by a live prince in his own princely 
 carriage—and there is a chance of her being at the 
 same ball with an Emperor, an Empress, a Queen, and 
 Highnesses uncountable, where is the azalea or rho¬ 
 dodendron that is worthy of a thought h 
 
 When Mr. Paragreen’s head emerged from the 
 yellow azalea, he suddenly said— 
 
96 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 “ What could have made His Highness call me 
 Milord?” 
 
 “ Lor ! Mr. Paragreen, you forget that he lives 
 among the nobility—no wonder he makes such mis¬ 
 takes sometimes.” 
 
 “ Well, my dear, not knowing, can’t say. By the 
 bye, what are we to do about this subscription ? I 
 suppose two pounds is enough.” 
 
 “ I should say not,” returned Dora, in her most 
 resolute manner ; “ it is not every day we have to do 
 with princes—give ten guineas, it’s more genteel.” 
 
 “ Bless my heart ! my dear, how fast you go ! 
 ten guineas !—no, no—that’s paying rather too dear 
 for the honour. I ’ll give five between us, and not 
 another farthing !” 
 
 This point settled, husband and wife hastened after 
 Ida and her sisters, who were fiuttering like butter¬ 
 flies from one sweet flower to another—looking more 
 natural and happy than they had done since leaving 
 Eden Villa. Even Tobo condescended to admire the 
 collection of fruits. 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen could not, however, be interested 
 for more than a minute by anything she saw; and, 
 resuming her interrupted chain of thoughts, she turned 
 to Mr. Paragreen, saying— 
 
 “ One thing I am determined on,—if I meet our 
 
MORE TREATS. 
 
 97 
 
 precious ambassador at Versailles, I ’ll give him a 
 lesson he won’t forget as long as he lives.” 
 
 “ But, Dora, dear, we only left our cards at the 
 Embassy yesterday morning, and—” 
 
 “ I knew beforehand you would take his part 
 against me,—no matter what it is, I am always in 
 the wrong. What on earth are all those people 
 staring at us for 1 I’d ask the great big boobies, if I 
 could speak their horrid gibberish.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen was quite justified in being aston¬ 
 ished. Our family seemed to possess a greater mag¬ 
 netic attraction for most of the loungers in the garden, 
 than the flowers they had come to see. Accustomed 
 to attract a certain amount of notice wherever they 
 went, they had at first paid no attention to the sen¬ 
 sation they produced ; but it gradually attained such 
 proportions as to embarrass even them. If they 
 walked, a procession walked in their wake—if they 
 stood still, the procession stood still, and stared at 
 them. The predominant feeling of the crowd seemed 
 to be that of simple curiosity, so much so that Mrs. 
 Paragreen observed, “ Well, I never—I am sure if 
 you were an hippopotamus, Mr. Paragreen, the people 
 could not stare at you more.” 
 
 “ I can’t think what it can be !” exclaimed Mr. 
 Paragreen, looking anxiously at as much of his person 
 G 
 
98 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 as lie could see. “ Tobo, is there anything on my 
 back 1 ” 
 
 They received unaccountable looks of sympathy, 
 also, and as unaccountable tokens of deference ; for 
 instance, a free passage was always left for the family, 
 and many of the male spectators lifted their hats to 
 them. Mr. Paragreen was so worried by having con¬ 
 stantly to snatch at the limp brim of his little green 
 covering, which he never could pull off in time— 
 raising it was out of the question—that he had a 
 momentary wild thought of carrying it in his hand, 
 and going bareheaded ; but he had a vague fear of 
 being taken up as am impostor,—he therefore tried to 
 find the gate by which they had entered. 
 
 Ere reaching it, two gentlemen, one of them an 
 officer, came up, and, after bowing, the one in plain 
 clothes made a short speech, of which the only words 
 Mr. Paragreen could catch, were “ honneur,” and 
 “ votre Seigneurie.” It became at last evident to 
 the Paragreens that they were mistaken for some one 
 else ; the little man, at his wit’s end, bowed and 
 better bowed, stammering forth a profusion of “ par- 
 dongs ” and “ mercis.” Then suddenly remember¬ 
 ing the effect of the words, “ Allies—Anglais,” on 
 the captain of Spahis, he sung out—“ Allies, Anglais 
 —Anglais, Allies—hurra ! ” in his loudest voice. On 
 this, some faint disjointed cheers arose in the crowd, 
 
MOEE TEEATS. 
 
 99 
 
 and three voices were distinctly heard to cry—“ Vi- 
 vent les Anglais ! ” 
 
 Escorted by the civil gentleman in plain clothes, 
 and the one in uniform, the Paragreens, half elated, 
 half alarmed, were paraded through the garden, and 
 at the gate had to swallow another oration, to which 
 this time the exhausted Mr. Paragreen could only 
 reply by a bow to every second word. Clapping his 
 green hat firmly on his head after the last round of 
 salem-aleks, as if there it should stick let what would 
 happen—our hero shut his eyes, and dashed headlong 
 through the open wicket, right into the midst of the 
 throng there assembled—a throng so thick, that the 
 sergens de ville on duty at the Flower Show had to 
 use main force, to procure free egress for the family, 
 and to protect their retreat. 
 
 Now, says the reader, with not a little pleasant 
 malice,—how is the story-teller going to account 
 satisfactorily for this ridiculous qui pro quo ? 
 
 By the unvarnished truth. You remember His 
 Highness calling Mr. Paragreen “Milord,” a short 
 while ago ? Well, His Highness had his own reasons 
 for so doing. You remember, also, that there was a 
 person with a foot on the wheel of the princely car¬ 
 riage, and a hand on the splash-board of the same ? 
 Mr. Paragreen and his fair partner might be cheated 
 into supposing the Prefect of the Seine, during Her 
 
100 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 Britannic Majesty’s visit, had leisure to converse in 
 such a delightfully convenient attitude, but the reader 
 knows better than to believe His Highness’s cock- 
 and-a-bull story. The fact is, that even Highnesses 
 have human weaknesses and human troubles, and 
 that our Prince, to escape from the boring of a most 
 pertinacious dun, had with monstrous courage and 
 ability pleaded, and successfully pleaded, the pro¬ 
 pinquity of his friend, the Lord Mayor of London, 
 incog., but not the less to be respected and revered. 
 The disappointed creditor having gone also to the 
 Flower Show, had pointed out Mr. Paragreen to one 
 or two people as the Lord Mayor of London, come 
 over incog, in Her Britannic Majesty’s suite ; the 
 intelligence had spread like wild-fire, and quickly 
 reached a Member of the Floral Committee, then 
 in the garden, who, calling on the only person in 
 authority at hand—viz., the officer on guard, had 
 
 both of them-but you know the rest. Is not 
 
 this clear, simple, and natural, as truth always is ? 
 
 Yes, but why did the Prince turn his dun into a 
 Prefect'? 
 
 Ah ! since everything must be explained, is it not 
 possible that he thought the mention of the Prefect 
 of the Seine a better introduction to that little affair 
 of the subscription, than either the mention of you 
 or me ? 
 
CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 THE ESCAPADE. 
 
 I HE table d’bote was rather dull. It was 
 perceptible at a glance that the ruling 
 spirit of the company, its soul, as it were, 
 was missing. But the conversation, which 
 had flagged at first, acquired some brisk¬ 
 ness when Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen whis¬ 
 pered to their immediate neighbours, who repeated it 
 to theirs, and so on till the news had attained the 
 widest circulation—that His Highness was that day 
 to dine with Prince Jerome. 
 
 The intelligence was startling, coming as it did 
 from the very lowest of the Lower Endians, and 
 occasioned a good deal of cross-questioning, met by 
 sharp and scornful retorts from Mrs. Paragreen, who 
 said, “ she supposed she knew what she was saying, 
 having had the fact from the very own lips of His 
 Highiiess, when they were taking a drive with him. 
 in his own britzka, in the Champs Elysdes.” 
 
102 
 
 THE PAEAHEEENS, 
 
 Glances of wonder and of envy shot hostilely to¬ 
 wards the undaunted Dora, but no one ventured on 
 any open defiance; observations critical and bitter 
 circulated as to the absence of the shy gentleman ; 
 and the fat literary lady was peculiarly caustic, 
 putting the question to the ceiling, “ Whether certain 
 persons should or should not be allowed admission 
 into certain circles ?” Mr. Paragreen fell into reve¬ 
 ries, as to why the Prince had called him Milord. 
 Mrs. Paragreen on the contrary was extremely on the 
 alert, and out of all patience into the bargain, at the 
 airs the Honorable A. Smallwhey was giving himself, 
 and his patronizing speeches, as if he were the Prince 
 himself. The cookery, however, was excellent, and 
 that was some comfort. 
 
 As soon as the company rose from table,—much 
 earlier than usual, as was natural in the circum¬ 
 stances,—Mr. Paragreen went up to His Highness’s 
 secretary, and begging his attention for a moment, 
 repeated the conversation he had had with the 
 Prince that morning, “ by whose express desire,” 
 concluded our hero, “ I seek an interview with you.” 
 
 “ Very good,” said the functionary; “ I am at yom’ 
 service : may I beg of you to come to my bureau ?” 
 
 Upon which our couple, dismissing the young ones 
 to the attic, followed the secretary to a snug little 
 
THE ESCAPADE. 
 
 103 
 
 room on the first floor, which had a combined air of 
 elegance and of business about it. 
 
 The Prince’s private secretary was a handsome, 
 intelligent-looking man of thirty, speaking English 
 fluently, and whose high-bred manners attested a 
 familiarity with the best society. 
 
 “Pray be seated,” and he placed himself at his 
 own desk. “ Now, Sir, will you kindly favour me 
 with your name ?—Sylvester Pappagreen 
 
 “Paragreen, Paragreen, Sir,” protested the owner 
 of that name. 
 
 “ I beg pardon—no title ?—Esquire I—Sylvester 
 Paragreen, Esquire, of Eden Villa, Peckham. And 
 you. Madam ?—Mrs. Theodora Paragreen—one of 
 the Joliffes of Hackney, you say h Ah ! indeed ! 
 Now, then, the name of the person who presented 
 you at Court—at the Court of St. James, I mean.” 
 
 The husband and wife are struck dumb. Mr. 
 Paragreen strokes his nose violently. 
 
 “Dear me,” cries Mrs. Paragreen, recovering her 
 speech, “must you have that?” 
 
 “ Indeed I must, it is indispensable,” returns the 
 Secretary ; “at least ”— 
 
 “How awkward !” sighs the lady. “To tell you 
 the truth. Sir, we have not been presented at Court 
 yet j but my cousin, Alderman Joiiffe, has.” 
 
104 
 
 THE PAHAGEEENS. 
 
 “ When I say indispensable,” resumes the Secre¬ 
 tary, “ I mean with reference to admission, according 
 to rule—by the grand entrance ; but there is the 
 back-door ”—laying a great stress on the word. 
 
 “ Is there ? ” cries the lady eagerly. 
 
 “ Which opens with a golden key,” winds up the 
 man in black. 
 
 “ With a golden key !! ” repeated Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 “ Yes, with a golden key,” returned the imperturb¬ 
 able Secretary. “ I take it for granted, that you 
 would not think much of a twenty-pound note or so.” 
 
 “ Certainly not,” said Mrs. Paragreen, with sharp 
 decision. 
 
 “Twenty pounds!” exclaimed Mr. Paragreen; 
 “ pray, sir, may I ask what for V 
 
 “ For smoothing away little difficulties—with the 
 Great Chamberlain,” replied the Secretary, winking 
 and smiling significantly. 
 
 “ I understand,” said the wife, brightening up. 
 
 “ I don’t understand,” cried the husband, growing 
 gloomy. 
 
 The gentleman in black rose, went up to Mr. 
 Paragreen, laid his hand on the little man’s sleeve, 
 and said in a whisper—“ You have no idea, sir, of 
 the extent of ”—(lowering his voice still more)—“ of 
 the extent of corruption in this unhappy country.” 
 
THE ESCAPADE. 
 
 105 
 
 “You don’t say so!” exclaimed Mr. Paragreen, 
 his small eyes dilating with unfeigned astonishment. 
 
 “It is awful, sir, I assure you—this, of course, is 
 quite under the rose—even the most exalted regions 
 are not free from the taint. Do you take me 
 now, sir ? ” 
 
 “I do, I do,” sighed Mr. Paragreen; “ but His 
 Highness mentioned nothing of the sort.” 
 
 “ Of that I am sure—he would not for the world 
 —it would be utterly foreign to his character. He 
 is too good, can never learn to say ‘ ISTo ’ to any one 
 —and what is the consequence ?—that he squanders 
 money right and left, and cannot command 5000 
 pounds, when that sum would command a fortune. 
 His couple of thousand per month is a mere nothing 
 for a man in his station of life, and it melts, sir, 
 melts away. But, for God’s sake 1 not a word on this 
 subject to His Highness, or I shall lose my place.” 
 
 “Oh!” ejaculated both the Paragreens simulta¬ 
 neously. 
 
 “ Only yesterday,” pursued the accomplished gen¬ 
 tleman, “ one of the finest horses in His Highness’s 
 stables went—to Somebody else’s. Actual money 
 never, but the equivalent always —appearances must 
 be kept up, you know. For instance. His Highness 
 goes to—never mind names—and says, ‘ There are 
 
106 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 two dear friends of mine (as in your case, perhaps) for 
 whom I want invitations for the ball at Versailles— 
 be a good fellow now, and shut one eye to any flaws 
 in the title.’ Weil, the person so addressed says, 
 
 ‘ Let them come under your wing. Highness, and I 
 will be utterly blind, I promise you.’—Well and 
 good. How mark what follows. This person calls 
 the next day, or the one after, and says, ‘ By the 
 bye. Prince, I am come to ask where I could procure 
 a few dozen of that same splendid Johannisberg you 
 gave us at your last dinner.’ The Prince of course 
 takes the hint, and immediately sends four dozen of 
 his Johannisberg—molten gold, I call it—and this is 
 the way the best and kindest of Princes gets himself 
 into difiiculties.” 
 
 All this was said so fluently, earnestly, and feel¬ 
 ingly, that it elicited the warmest sympathy from 
 our friends. 
 
 “ Excuse my emotion,” continued this phoenix of 
 secretaries, his fine eyes brimful of tears, “ my heart 
 is overflowing, and I but discharge a duty. I know 
 I am speaking to persons of birth, of fortune, and of 
 feeling, and who would not, for anything this world 
 could offer, take advantage of that which, I hope, I 
 am not disrespectful in denominating His Highness’s 
 noble foible.” 
 
THE ESCAPADE. 
 
 107 
 
 “Oil! never, never!” protested Mrs. Paragreen 
 passionately. 
 
 “ Of that you may rest assured,” chimed in Mr. 
 Paragreen, with dignity. 
 
 “ Well, then !” said the Secretary, rising, “ all 
 that remains for me to say is, that I shall endeavour 
 to ascertain the amount of the sacrifice imposed on 
 His Highness on this occasion, and take the liberty 
 of respectfully communicating it to you—that is, 
 if you allow me to do so.” 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen unanimously agreed to this. 
 
 “ Thank you—I need not add another word. 
 This way, if you please—I rely on your profound 
 secrecy. I shall take His Highness’s orders, of course, 
 and to-morrow morning will do myself the honour 
 of calling on you early, to report progress. Will 
 half-past nine suit you ?—very good. Your most 
 obedient servant.” 
 
 Our pair from Peckham had been so impressed by 
 the Secretary’s eloquence, that, when a waiter stopped 
 them on the stairs, to say that a caniage was at the 
 door of the Hotel waiting for them, they had some 
 difficulty in recollecting that they had bespoken one, 
 and also for what purpose. They hurried to their 
 rooms to give a few parting recommendations to Ida 
 and Tobo, and then set off for the Italian Theatre. 
 
108 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS. 
 
 Five minutes afterwards Tobo drew Da to one of 
 the windows. “ I say, Da, ” he began, “ you don’t 
 mean really to stay moping here all the evening, 
 with these two little brats, do you ? ” 
 
 “ Certainly I do,” replied dutiful Ida. 
 
 “Then you’ll have to do it by yourself—for, I 
 promise you, I won’t. Come—don’t be silly—put 
 them to bed, and let’s go out.” The truth must be 
 told, that Tobo wanted an accomplice. 
 
 “ They will never go to bed at this hour, I am 
 sure. It’s broad daylight.” 
 
 “ Well, if it is, then we shall just have time for a 
 turn in the Lizzies before dark—only a little turn, 
 and we can be back before their bed-time.” 
 
 “But they will be afraid to stay here without 
 us.” 
 
 “ Nonsense.—Look here, Bella—you and Emma 
 won’t be frightened if Da and I go out for something 
 —we shan’t be long.” 
 
 The children said they shouldn’t be at all 
 frightened ; so Tobo clapped his cap on his head, 
 saying, “ Look sharp, Ida.” 
 
 Still Ida hung back reluctantly. What would 
 Pa and Ma say if they were to find out that they had 
 left the children alone 
 
 Tobo shrugged his shoulders, exclaiming, as he 
 
THE ESCAPADE. 
 
 109 
 
 moved towards the door,—“ Do as you like, Miss, I 
 shan’t ask you any more.” 
 
 Ida was not proof against the temptation—she 
 put on her bonnet, giving, as an excuse to herself for 
 yielding, her wish to prevent Tobo from staying out 
 too late. 
 
 Five minutes after, brother and sister, arm-in-arm, 
 were strolling up the principal avenue of the Champs 
 Elys^es. 
 
 The tasting alone of the forbidden fruit was a 
 treat—it was charming to move about in perfect 
 freedom, to stop and enjoy what was to be seen, or 
 go on wherever fancy led them. But Tobo’s energies 
 yearned for some better employment than this. The 
 Cafd Chantant des Ambassadeurs,” all in a blaze of 
 coloured lamps, proved ultra-alluring ; and he had 
 the courage to propose to his sister, that they should 
 venture within the rope, and sit down at a little 
 table, and ask for a glass of something. But to this 
 Ida could in no way be persuaded, upon which Tobo 
 called her a deceitful monkey, who was good for 
 nothing but to spoil sport, and threatened to go in 
 himself, and leave her outside. “ Oh ! I daren’t, 
 Tobo—you know ladies oughtn’t to go to caf^s, but 
 I’ll do anything else you like.” 
 
 With this understanding they walked on without 
 
no 
 
 THE PARAGKEEHS. 
 
 stopping, till they came to Guignolet’s Theatre, just 
 at that interesting crisis when Guignolet, a near re¬ 
 lation of Punch, armed with a powerful staff, knocks 
 down, again and again, and for ever, the whole 
 dramatis ’personae —a moral piece of fun which never 
 fails to elicit roars of laughter from crowded 
 audiences of children, who, it is consoling to think, 
 will be men and women in due time. Ida would 
 fain have dallied here a little while ; but Tobo, 
 spurning the notion as childish, went on to a mag¬ 
 nificent round-about in full activity. Here this 
 great hobbledehoy insisted on Ida fulfilling her pro¬ 
 mise, and, in less time than it takes to say it, brother 
 and sister were whirling round, he on one of the 
 wooden horses, she in a boat. 
 
 Tobo performed marvels, in the way of thrusting 
 his mimic lance through the rings, and bearing one 
 off at each turn—and, as surely as he did so, having 
 his vanity tickled by the murmurs of approbation 
 from the bystanders, one of whom, especially, was 
 very loud in the boy’s praise. “ Bravo ! well done ! 
 England against the field—Bravo !” In the heat of 
 action, and in the excitement of success, Tobo had 
 not observed from whom proceeded these enthusiastic 
 plaudits ; but Ida, less delighted with her position, 
 had perceived, from the very first, that they came 
 
I 
 
 l 
 
 i 
 
 .1 i 
 
 
 ' 7 - 
 
THE ESCAPADE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 from the owner of the identical light tuft to the chin 
 —from that particular he, we mean—whose expres¬ 
 sive pantomime had already, more than once, made 
 her aware of his ardent admiration for her; and who, 
 at this present moment, while applauding the brother, 
 discharged the most passionate glances at the sister. 
 
 When Tobo, having had enough of the fun, went 
 to help his sister out of the boat, he found already 
 in the discharge of that duty a dashing young man, 
 who warmly congratulated the young Peckhamite, 
 and asked, as a favour, to shake the hand which 
 could accomplish such clever deeds. The boy at 
 once recognised, in the speaker, the stranger who had 
 been so obliging to the whole squad in that morning’s 
 crowd, and considering him, therefore, as something 
 of an acquaintance, had no objection to be shaken 
 hands with and complimented. This led to a little 
 further conversation, in the course of which Tobo, 
 having complained that he was as thirsty as if he 
 had swallowed all the dust of the Lizzies, the three 
 walked away together to a stand close by, where iced 
 lemonade was sold. 
 
 “ I must have something to warm this confounded 
 cold stuff,” said the would be-man in turndown shirt 
 collars, and the something came in the shape of a 
 rich golden-coloured liquor, yclept brandy. The 
 
112 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 liamm-scamm young fellow poured a large dose of 
 this into his lemonade, and drained it off at a 
 draught, to the grief and terror of Ida, who faintly 
 cried, “ Pray don’t.” 
 
 This pathetic “ don’t ” called forth an indignant 
 inquiry from Tobo, of whether she thought a drop of 
 brandy was enough to floor him—and then he called 
 bravely for more lemonade and more brandy. 
 
 While Tobo was disposing of his mixture, the 
 stranger, as in duty bound, was making the agreeable 
 with all his might to Ida. How did she like Paris ? 
 She liked it very much indeed. Was her stay in 
 Paris to be of any length ? Ida was not sure, but 
 she thought they would not remain more than an¬ 
 other week or so. This intelligence was received 
 with a deep sigh, and an exclamation of “ What a 
 pity !” that spoke volumes. 
 
 Transporting place this Champs Elys^es—isn’t 
 it ? ” This remark was addressed to Tobo, who, hav¬ 
 ing done with his glass, was looking about him. 
 
 “Oh, yes! — it’s well enough in its way—but 
 don’t come up to the Drive by the Serpentine— 
 nothing to equal that in Paris.” 
 
 “ Ah ! but you forget the Bois de Boulogne— 
 why, it’s like fairy-land, with its lakes, cascades, 
 grottos, chalets, &c., and such lovely boats !” 
 
THE ESCAPADE. 
 
 113 
 
 “Where is this Boa de Bolone ?” asked Tobo, 
 “ I never heard of it before.” 
 
 “Not far on the other side of the Arc de I’Etoile 
 —shall we go there now V 
 
 Tobo looked willing, but did not answer directly. 
 
 “ No, no !” cried poor Ida, “you know it is time 
 we were at home.” 
 
 Tobo felt degraded by this exposure. 
 
 “You may go home, if you like,” he replied with 
 manly dignity, “ but as for me, I shall go to this 
 Boa !” 
 
 “ Oh, Tobo, do come home ! what will pa and ma 
 say V The remonstrance was only adding fuel to 
 the fire. 
 
 “ It will only take us half an hour,” expostulated 
 the tempter, “ see, there is my little brougham— 
 allow me to drive you there—pray, say Yes.” 
 
 “ Yes, to be sure ! ” pronounced Tobo, moving de¬ 
 cidedly towards the brougham pointed out. 
 
 What could poor Ida do, but follow her fractious 
 brother into the carriage, and go with him and the 
 unknown to the Bois de Boulogne ? 
 
 The parents of the two runaways had, in the mean 
 time, but little pleasure at the Italian Theatre. 
 Neither of them had ever read Ovid’s Metamorphoses, 
 and they could not find out what Mirra was making 
 H 
 
114 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS. 
 
 herself so unhappy about. Mrs. Paragreen especially 
 was out of ail patience with such a silly daw of a 
 thing, who didn’t know what she wanted herself. 
 Everybody so kind to her—father—mother—nurse 
 —even that stupid what-d’ye-call-hiin in the armour 
 —every one on their knees, praying and begging her 
 for God’s sake to say what was the matter with her, 
 and she always crying, scolding, and complaining, 
 and throwing up her eyes, and spreading out her 
 hands like a maniac. Mrs. Paragreen knew what 
 she would have done to this Miss Mirra, if she had 
 been her daughter. 
 
 The drollest part of the affair was, that Mrs. Para- 
 green’s dislike of the personage represented extended 
 itself to the actress. In short, husband and wife 
 were bored to death by the end of the second act, 
 and agreed to beat a retreat. “ This Ristori is quite 
 the rage,” observed Dora as they wended their way 
 to the hotel, “so it’s just as well to have seen her, 
 for the sake of saying we have—but as for me, I 
 declare I wouldn’t give a fig for her acting.” 
 
 “Nor I either,”proclaimed Mr. Paragreen, “ though, 
 perhaps, we mayn’t have seen her in one of her best 
 characters. It certainly was a dull affair.” 
 
 “ I wonder why all tragedies, and those other 
 things—you know what I mean, must needs be so 
 
THE ESCAPADE. 
 
 115 
 
 gloomy, and every one in them so miserable. A real 
 bit of fun, that makes one like to die of laughing, 
 there is some sense in that; but I should like to 
 know where’s the use or amusement of setting a 
 parcel of people crying T 
 
 Discussing such deep theories on Art, the senior 
 Paragreens reached their hotel, and were lighted up 
 to their rooms. “ Mercy on us !” cried the lady, on 
 arriving at the landing-place of the upper floor, 
 “ what can be the matter with the children ? I hear 
 them cryingand rushing into the drawing-room, 
 fancy the shock the parents received, when they 
 beheld Emma and Arabella huddled up in one corner 
 of the sofa, and weeping as if their little hearts were 
 breaking. 
 
 “Where are Ida and Tobo ?” 
 
 “ They went out, ma, directly you and pa were 
 gone; and when it got dark we were afraid, and 
 couldn’t help crying.” Such was the doleful account 
 sobbed out by the little girls. 
 
 “ Gone out!” gasped forth husband and wife. 
 
 “ Really, I must make an example of that boy,” 
 says Mr. Paragreen in an ominous voice; “he shall 
 be made to hear reason, I am determined.” 
 
 “And Ida!” exclaimed Mrs Paragreen, “she’s 
 
116 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 twenty times worse than Tobo ;—boys will be boys 
 —but that unfeeling girl ”— 
 
 As the exasperated mother paused the door opened, 
 and the two culprits made their appearance, Ida with 
 a countenance giving the lie direct to her mother’s 
 apostrophe. Mrs. Paragreen crossed her arms and 
 began. 
 
 “ So this is the way a dutiful daughter replaces 
 her absent mother, is it ” 
 
 “ Oh, mamma !” implored Ida. 
 
 “ This is the way, is it, a grown-up young lady 
 takes care of her innocent little sisters, who, for any¬ 
 thing she knew or cared, might have played with 
 matches, set the house on fire, and burned themselves 
 to death ! ” 
 
 “ Oh, mamma ! ” entreated Ida. 
 
 “ Have I nursed a viper in my bosom, have I 
 
 “ Oh, mamma ! ”—Ida could stand it no longer, 
 and threw herself at her mother’s feet, sobbing con¬ 
 vulsively. 
 
 “Where have you been. Sir?” asked Mr. Para¬ 
 green of the masculine offender, in a tone of a Rha- 
 damanthus. 
 
 “ To take a turn in the Lizzies,” was the brief 
 answer. 
 
 “ Champs Elysdes, Sir—that’s how well-educated 
 
THE ESCAPADE. 
 
 117 
 
 gentlemen speak,” says tlie father sternly. “ Precious 
 short turn it has been ! Do you know what o’clock 
 it is, Sir ?—a quarter to ten. Sir.” 
 
 “ How could I know I have no watch,” replied 
 Tobo, rather sullenly. 
 
 “ And it ’ll be long before you have one. Sir, if 
 you go on behaving as you do; your conscience. Sir, 
 ought to have stood in the place of a watch. Your 
 behaviour, I regret to say, is a—ah !—is a—is most 
 unbecoming. You ought—I am, I mean—yes, I am 
 —positively ashamed of you. Don’t speak —go to 
 your room. Sir ”— 
 
 This, to say the truth, was rather difficult to do, 
 for room Tobo had not, his night’s repose being 
 taken on the very sofa occupied at that moment by 
 the two little girls and the majestic Mrs. Paragreen, 
 with the still weeping Ida at her feet. 
 
 “Go to your bed. Sir,—I mean,” went on Mr. 
 Paragreen, rectifying his mistake, “ and sleep if you 
 can.” 
 
 Having thus spoken, Mr. Paragreen took up a 
 candle and walked towards an inner door, but after 
 two steps he wheeled round, raised the hand with 
 the candle in it, and slowly and solemnly let this 
 awful sentence drop from his lips—“ We don’t go to 
 Corazza’s to-morrow,” and disappeared. Mrs. and 
 
118 
 
 THE PAEAGEEEHS. 
 
 Miss Paragreen folloY/ed, leading Emma and Arabella, 
 whose tears broke forth afresh at the terrible award, 
 and Tobo was left alone to his sofa—and his remorse. 
 
 Ida remained long closeted with her mother that 
 j light; and the full confession she made was received 
 in a spirit of truly motherly indulgence. Mrs. Para- 
 green went even so far as to assure her daughter 
 that, if the person in question came forward honour¬ 
 ably, and was well born and well off—in a word, 
 such as could make her child happy, she, her mother, 
 would raise no objections. “I should not much 
 wonder, Ida, dear,” concluded Mrs. Paragreen affec¬ 
 tionately, “if he were to turn out to be somebody 
 —a son, or grandson, or nephew of a nobleman, or 
 liaronet, or a Member of Parliament. Were there 
 two horses to the carriage ?—only one, but a very 
 fine one, you say. Well, I believe most single men 
 of rank only drive one horse till they get married. 
 Good night, my dearest girl, and pleasant dreams to 
 you.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen had a pleasant dream herself She 
 dreamed that she was figuring in a quadrille at Ver¬ 
 sailles with His Imperial Majesty for a vis-k-vis, and 
 that His Majesty asked her if she had anything or 
 anybody to complain of, and that she answered—only 
 of the British Ambassador, who had slighted her. 
 
THE ESCAPADE. 
 
 119 
 
 On hearing this, His Majesty had ordered the cul¬ 
 prit to he forthwith summoned to his presence, and 
 beheaded on the spot. Mrs. Paragreen, prostrating 
 herself however at His Majesty’s feet, had, though 
 with some difficulty, obtained the criminal’s pardon ; 
 and turning to His Excellency had said—This is the 
 way a Jolilfe of Hackney revenges heeself !!! 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL. 
 
 EXT morning, at half-past nine, His High¬ 
 ness’ secretary entered the little drawing¬ 
 room in the upper regions of the Unicorn 
 Hotel, where the Paragreen family were 
 assembled, waiting for him—the seniors 
 seated in state on the rather faded yellow 
 sofa, which poor Tobo had been called upon to aban¬ 
 don much earlier than usual, to give the waiter time 
 to make all circumstantial evidence of sheets and 
 blankets disappear. 
 
 “ Good morning, Mr. Pappagreen—beg pardon— 
 Paragreen—delighted to see you so well. Madam— 
 how are these charming little creatures ?” 
 
 ‘‘You are very kind—quite well—I thank you— 
 pray, be seated. Sir—Ida !” here Mrs. Paragreen 
 nods to her eldest daughter, with a most significant 
 side look at Emma and Arabella. Obedient Ida 
 
HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL. 
 
 121 
 
 takes the hint, and prepares to leave the room with 
 the children. 
 
 “ Not on my account, I beg,” interposes the polite 
 visitor, “ do not deprive me of the sight of any of 
 your beautiful family. It is really not necessary—I 
 dote on children, I assure you I do,” stooping and 
 embracing the two little girls quite fondly. ‘‘ His 
 Highness sends his compliments, (this to the father 
 and mother of course,) and begs you will be ready 
 precisely by eight o’clock this evening, to go—you 
 know where,” (with a wink.) 
 
 “ How very k—” 
 
 “ His Highness will take you in his own carriage. 
 He dines in his apartment to-day, and will send to 
 let you know when he is ready.” 
 
 How very kind of His Highness !” exclaim Mr. 
 and Mrs. Paragreen, in raptures. 
 
 “ I mention no place, as it is His Highness’ ex¬ 
 press desire, that the whole thing be kept secret, 
 especially from any of the people in the house. You 
 understand the Prince’s reasons—wishes to excite no 
 jealousies—cannot do for every one that comes in his 
 way, what he is happy to do for his friends.” 
 
 The Paragreens understand the Prince’s reasons 
 perfectly, and will be as silent as tombs. 
 
 “ Are you an admirer of cameos V the query is 
 
122 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 put to Mrs. Paragreeu, who, rather startled by it, re¬ 
 plies, “ Yes—that is—not particularly—I don’t like 
 the great bunches on their backs.” 
 
 The Secretary, startled in his turn, “ Ha ! I see— 
 I don’t mean camels, but cameos—rare stones worked 
 in relievo. I thought you might perhaps like to see 
 one, reckoned a chef-cVoeuvre, so I brought it with 
 me—here it isand producing a small casket, the 
 considerate gentleman displays to the admiring eyes 
 of all the family a large brooch. Mr. Paragreen 
 looks at it, Mrs. Paragreen examines it, Tobo, Ida, 
 and the children are shown it, and each in turn pro¬ 
 nounces it “ beautiful.” 
 
 ‘‘ Is it not 1—the subject, you see, Leda and the 
 Swan—the Swan is Jupiter, as you know. His 
 Highness got it at Rome from Bianchini, the famous 
 lapidary—had it too for a mere trifle—guess how 
 much T 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen has not an idea, Mr. Paragreen 
 ventures to suppose a couple of pounds or so. 
 
 “ Oh, Sir !—a stone 2000 years old, and of such 
 workmanship, two pounds !—you must be joking. 
 Why, His Highness, when he ■paid down 125 scudi 
 for it, considered he had got a great bargain. See, 
 here’s Bianchini’s own receipt for that sum,—125 
 scudi Romani, that is, in English money, twenty-five 
 
HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL. 
 
 123 
 
 pounds, neither less nor more, (the exact amoimt of 
 the sum, I promised to communicate.)” 
 
 These last words were whispered in a stage a/parte, 
 intended for Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen’s ears alone, 
 and acknowledged by affirmative nods of intelligence 
 from both those wise heads. 
 
 “ And,” resumes the speaker, ‘‘ this cameo I am 
 commissioned to convey as a gift from His Highness 
 to—better to name no names—to a person of high 
 standing at Court, who, only yesterday, had an oppor¬ 
 tunity of obliging His Highness in an affair which 
 His Highness had much at heart—much at heart.” 
 
 Every syllable of this last phrase, underlined by 
 the accent of the speaker and by the winks with 
 which it was accompanied, was responded to by an 
 equally expressive pantomime from the husband and 
 wife, intimating clearly to the orator that his pic¬ 
 turesque style of colouring was not lost upon them. 
 
 The secretary now rose to depart.—“ By the bye, 
 how stupid I am,« I was about to forget—His High¬ 
 ness, though, was so particular in his instructions— 
 that business of the subscription. His Highness 
 spoke to you of it, I believe—yes, yes, certainly. 
 Here’s the list of subscribers j” and, reseating him¬ 
 self, he drew from his pocket and unfolded a sheet 
 of foolscap paper. “ Their Imperial Majesties, Her 
 
124 
 
 THE PAE A GREENS. 
 
 Most Gracious Majesty of England, the Princess 
 Mathilde, Prince Jerome, Her Highness the Grand 
 Duchess of Baden, Count Walewski, the Earl of 
 Clarendon, Viscount Palmerston, &c., &c. You see 
 you will he in good company,” remarked his secre¬ 
 taryship, smiling. 
 
 “ Will you put us down for five guineas fal¬ 
 tered Mrs. Paragreen ; “ it is hut little”— 
 
 “ Oh ! my dear madam, no excuses. I know the 
 proverb, ‘ Many a little makes a mickle.’ Thank 
 you. Do you wish to he put down separately, or— 
 very good, together—thus, Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen 
 of Eden Villa, Peckham, five guineas. Thank you. 
 Shall we write down the names of the other mem¬ 
 bers of your family at a guinea each ? Hot for the 
 sake of the money so much as for the morality of 
 the thing. It is so refreshing to see youth engaged 
 in works of benevolence.” 
 
 “ Very refreshing, indeed, sir, very,” stammered 
 forth Mr. Paragreen, at a loss what to say, yet feel¬ 
 ing the necessity of saying something in answer to 
 the appeal of the interrogative black eye. 
 
 “ As Ida is the eldest her name must come first,” 
 said Mrs. Paragreen. 
 
 “ Quite so—Miss Paragreen, one guinea, Mr. T — 
 glancing at Tobo. 
 
HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL. 
 
 125 
 
 “ Thomas,” suggested the lad. 
 
 “ Mr. Thomas Paragreen, a guinea.” 
 
 “ Miss Arabella,” prompted the father, “ ten shil¬ 
 lings and sixpence. Some distinction ought to be 
 made between the eldest and youngest.” 
 
 u Very sensible observation. I had not thought 
 of it, I confess—good ! Then we are to say. Miss 
 Arabella Paragreen ten shillings and sixpence. Miss 
 Emma Paragreen ten shillings and sixpence. The 
 names look uncommonly well grouped together, don’t 
 they Now, let me see, five and two, seven, and 
 one more, eight—eight guineas in all.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen nudged her husband’s elbow. Mr. 
 Paragreen plunged his hand into the left-side breast¬ 
 pocket of his coat, and produced a pocket-book. 
 Mr. Paragreen, as a practical man, had, since he 
 set off on his travels, adopted the plan of carrying 
 all his money upon his person, but with the pre¬ 
 caution of securing the book which contained it to 
 the bottom of his pocket by means of a stout 
 string, long enough to allow of its being conveni¬ 
 ently handled when need were. 
 
 “ Eight guineas, you say, that is eight pounds 
 eight shillings,” calculated ]\fr. Paragreen aloud, as 
 he opened the valuable book, and exhibited to view 
 a considerable amount of Bank of England notes. 
 
126 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS. 
 
 “Yes, eight pounds eight shillings, to which, per¬ 
 haps, it may be agreeable to you,” insinuated the 
 secretary, “ to add the sum, the figure of which I had 
 the honour to communicate confidentially.” 
 
 “ By all means ! ” said Mrs. Paragreen, swallowing 
 the bait. Indeed, had she not done so, she must 
 have been made of stone, so temptingly was the 
 hook dressed. 
 
 “ Since you will have it so, let it be so,” continued 
 the gentleman in black, with a bow of resignation. 
 “ Your little debt then will amount to —25 and 8 
 makes 33—-just £33 eight shillings—can it be so 
 much?—yes, I am right,—£33, 8s.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen, with a rather wry face, tendered 
 £35 in three bank-notes, and received back 32 shil¬ 
 lings in French money. This business transacted, 
 the smiling glossy visitor patted Emma and Arabella 
 on the head, and bowing his adieux to the rest, re¬ 
 iterated emphatically, “ At eight, o’clock precisely, 
 remember,” and took himself and the £33, 8s. most 
 serenely away. After all, why not ? perhaps he felt 
 as if he had well earned it by all the pains and 
 trouble he had taken. 
 
 “ What an amiable young man,” said Mrs. Para¬ 
 green, “ and so clever !” 
 
 “ Very clever !” emphasized her husband, rousing 
 
HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL. 
 
 127 
 
 himself from a reverie, “ very clever indeed ! Come, 
 let’s have breakfast.” 
 
 They went to breakfast accordingly, which over, 
 Mr. Paragreen put the usual question to his wife, 
 “ What are we going to do to-day ? ” 
 
 “You are going to take the children with you, 
 and keep them away, too, as long as possible—that’s 
 your business for the day.” Such were the summary 
 directions given by the lady. “ Ida will stay with 
 me—I want her. Thanks to somebody, I ’m obliged 
 to be my own maid, you know.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen saw breakers ahead, and put out to 
 sea at once, taking Tobo and the young ones in tow. 
 They went first to the Hotel de Ville, where a little 
 mortification awaited our practical sight-seer. Hav¬ 
 ing, among other things, desired the person who 
 shewed the rooms to let them see the guillotine, 
 Mr. Paragreen was asked in a resentful tone, how 
 he came to suppose that such toys were kept for 
 exhibition at the Hotel de Ville, and whether he 
 took him for the executioner. But Mr. Paragreen, 
 though a little thrown back, did not fail to draw 
 from his defeat food for an instructive lecture to his 
 children. 
 
 “It is kept there, I am sure,” said he as they 
 came out, “ I had my information from Joliffe, who 
 
128 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 saw it with his own eyes. They are probably ashamed 
 to show it—it is to their credit if they are. Guillo¬ 
 tining is a most barbarous mode of putting people to 
 death : hanging is almost pleasant in comparison. 
 These French, it must be owned, are behind us in 
 most things—very far behindhand indeed.” 
 
 Having thus settled the matter, Mr. Paragreen and 
 his party proceeded to the Jardin des Plantes—the 
 real object of their walk in fact—where they met 
 with neither mortification nor disappointment, to 
 cloud their enthusiastic admiration. Every trace of 
 their natural annoyance at missing a sight of the 
 guillotine, was lost in the keen enjoyment of looking 
 at elephants and giraffes, in wondering at the play¬ 
 fulness of the hippopotamus and his companion, and 
 at the monkeys and snakes—in rambling about the 
 well laid out grounds, and munching buns ad libitum 
 in the cool shade of the spacious avenues. 
 
 In short, father and children were so delighted and 
 engrossed by the pleasures of the present moment, that 
 had they not, by a miraculous chance, met with an 
 empty citadine to take them back to the hotel, they 
 could not have avoided being too late for dinner, this 
 eventful day of all the days in the year. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 BETWEEN THE CUP AND THE LIP. 
 
 PS. Pakagreen was just emerging from 
 tlie hands of a hair-dresser, with whom 
 and his performance she was finding 
 fault, as her husband and children came 
 in. Mother and daughter had spent 
 most of the day out of doors also, but 
 occupied in purchases connected with the toilet for 
 that evening; and Mrs. Paragreen had found cause 
 to say at least twenty times to Ida, during their 
 rambles, “ I have to thank your father, my dear, 
 for all this botheration.” 
 
 One annoyance or another had developed in our 
 fail’ friend a certain asperity of temper, which was 
 not hkely to be mended by the necessity of sitting 
 veiy stiU and upright, for fear of deranging her 
 head-dress, a la Pompadour, or by the ill-dissembled 
 laughter and ridicide it evoked from the ladies at 
 I 
 
130 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS, 
 
 table, (did not the fat blonde, indeed, go so far as to 
 ask Mrs. Paragreen, with ironical politeness, if she 
 were going to the fete at Versailles T) not to mention 
 a certain conversation which she could not help over¬ 
 hearing, and to which we may have to refer by 
 and by. 
 
 By the time dinner was over, Mrs. Paragreen was 
 in a downright rage, and poor Ida had to bear the 
 brunt of it all, besides being lectured the whole 
 time she was helping her mother to dress, on the 
 duties of elder sisters in their mother’s absence, in 
 a manner she was not likely to forget very soon. 
 Mr. Paragreen held his tongue, and kept as much 
 aloof as he could. The last stroke of eight o’clock 
 was still vibrating when the queer servant in the 
 ambiguous dress appeared, to summon the two lucky 
 mortals to the august presence of Plis Highness. 
 Mrs. Paragreen was, of course, not ready; her fan 
 was missing, and her bouquet-holder, most indispen¬ 
 sable component parts of a lady’s dress, as every 
 reasonable person knows. They were found at last, 
 and then Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen were ushered into 
 the sanctuary. 
 
 His Highness, in the garb of a golden pheasant, 
 that is, glittering with gold from head to foot, and 
 with riblDons and cordons round his neck enough to 
 
BETWEEN THE CUP AND THE LIP. 
 
 131 
 
 have hanged him twenty times over, was standing 
 in that peculiar attitude which we see assigned to 
 potentates figuring at the street-door of miniature 
 painters and photographists, we mean, by the side of 
 a diminutive table, covered with a crimson cloth, 
 his left hand on the hilt of his sword, his right on 
 a portfolio, bearing in rich embroidery his Prince’s 
 coronet and initials, lying on the table. 
 
 “ Well, Mr. Pappagreen, not yet dressed T 
 
 “Not dressed, your Highness ?” faltered the little 
 man, scarcely crediting his own ears, and adding 
 mentally,—not dressed, a man in open-worked 
 stockings, pumps, white cravat, white waistcoat, and 
 diamond studs in the front of his shirt ? 
 
 “Not in uniform, I mean,” explained the Prince. 
 “You must be in uniform this evening ; it is cpiite 
 indispensable, and so is a manteau de cour for your 
 lady.” 
 
 “ A mantua de gure !” gasped forth the wife. 
 
 “ A uniform !” stammered the husband ; “ a uni¬ 
 form of what T 
 
 “ Of the rank you hold in society,” said the 
 Prince. “ Are you not an ofiicer in the army, or 
 navy, or militia,—a lieutenant of a county, a ma¬ 
 gistrate, sheriff, constable, in short, something or 
 other r 
 
132 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS. 
 
 “ I am only a churchwarden,” replied Mr. Para- 
 green, dejectedly. 
 
 “ Capital! that’s the very thing. Put on a 
 churchwarden’s uniform. ’ ’ 
 
 “ But churchwardens have no uniform,” objected 
 Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 Never mind—make one—a fancy uniform, what¬ 
 ever you please, and call it a churchwarden’s. I 
 cannot introduce you in plain clothes, the thing is 
 impossible; and you, dear madam, pray, forthwith 
 order a manteau de cour. I cannot say how much 
 I feel for your disappointment. I am disappointed 
 myself But we will find a way some other time of 
 making up for it.” 
 
 And with this promise of empty air to feed upon, 
 the poor Paragreens were dismissed. 
 
 ‘‘ Upon ray word,” said Mrs. Paragreen, with a 
 dreadful smile, “ you are worth your weight in gold, 
 Mr. Paragreen.” 
 
 “ I'?—wJiat have I done now V 
 
 “ Whatever you have a hand in goes wrong. It 
 was not necessary to be a genius to ask about what 
 dress we ought to wear.” 
 
 “ I beg your pardon, my dear, but I never thought 
 of it,” said Mr. Paragreen, humbly. “ I really can¬ 
 not think of everything.” 
 
BETWEEN THE CUP AND THE LIP. 
 
 133 
 
 “ You needn’t tell me that. I found that out 
 long ago, to my cost. God knows when such an 
 opportunity as this may happen again—most likely 
 never. However, I won’t have the same thing occur 
 twice; so to-morrow, the first thing we do, let us 
 go and order a mantua de gure, and some sort of 
 uniform for you.” 
 
 “We’ll think about it, my dear,” returned the 
 husband; adding in a most conciliatory voice, “We 
 are spending lots of money, Dora, dear—we are in¬ 
 deed !” 
 
 “ Bricks and mortar ! !” burst forth Mrs Para- 
 green, turning sharply round upon him; “ don’t 
 speak nonsense, man.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen was wont to swear by bricks and 
 MORTAR, just as Jupiter did by the Styx, on grand 
 occasions. An experience of some date had taught 
 Mr. Paragreen, that when she said Bricks and Mor¬ 
 tar, the wife of his bosom was ready to come to ex¬ 
 tremities, and his heart misgave him. He therefore 
 took advantage of Mrs. Paragreen’s flouncing into 
 the inner room, to whisper to Ida that, if he were 
 wanted, he was gone to Galignani’s to read the 
 papers, but would be back presently. And without 
 waiting for any reply, he bounced down stairs, made 
 straight for the livery stables close by, (a discovery 
 
134 
 
 THE PAEAGREEHS. 
 
 of the previous clay,) and jumping into a cab, said to 
 the coachman, “ An Jardin d’Hiver.” 
 
 Why to the Jardin d’Hiver ? Just have the good¬ 
 ness to answer one question, or two, and you will 
 see. Were you going to be admitted some evening 
 for the first time to the presence of Emperors, Em- 
 l)resses, Queens, Prince Consorts, &c., do you think 
 you could preserve your every-day sedateness and 
 equanimity 1 Certainly not. You would feel con¬ 
 siderably elated, excited, and fiurried. And if, added 
 to this, you had the happiness of having by your side 
 an amiable wife in a state of exacerbation, don’t you 
 think that this circumstance would tend materially to 
 heighten the effervescence of your spirits ? Thank 
 you for giving us an honest “ Yes.” We then may 
 take it for granted, that Mr. Paragreen was in that 
 state of nervous flutter, in which a man is scarcely 
 aware of what he is doing, and it can therefore cause 
 no wonder, if, mechanically and without knowing 
 that he did so, he applied himself more frequently 
 than usual at dinner to the wine bottle by his plate, 
 and entirely overlooked what Tobo was about, who, 
 up to this day, had never helped himself to wine, 
 without the inevitable admonitory, Now, Tobo,” 
 from his father. 
 
 It was during these dubious moments that the 
 
BETWEEN THE CUP AND THE LIP. 
 
 135 
 
 druggist’s assistant, that “ vulgar poisoner,” as Mrs. 
 Paragreen called him, took it into his head to begin 
 extolling the Jardin d’Hiver as the most charming 
 and diverting place in Paris. The Jardin d’Hiver ‘I 
 what went on there ? was it balls or concerts'? was 
 there good company 1 —to all these queries the young 
 scapegrace would vouchsafe no more explicit answers, 
 than sputtering bursts of laughter, and insidious—Go 
 and see for yourself—with expressive side-glances at 
 the fairer moiety of the company—and sundry kicks 
 on Tobo’s calves, the young chemist’s vis-k-vis. 
 
 This mystery, which, in ordinary circumstances, 
 would have left Mr. Paragreen’s imagination at least 
 undisturbed, had, owing to the repeated potations of 
 father and son, an effect on both—neither of whom 
 left the table without asking where this bewitching- 
 place was, and at what hour it opened. This was 
 the conversation alluded to a few pages back, as con¬ 
 tributing its drop to the amount of gall already fer¬ 
 menting in Mrs. Paragreen’s bosom, and which drew 
 from that lady, as they were going up stairs, the 
 “ hope that Mr. Paragreen was sufficiently a Chris¬ 
 tian, a gentleman, and a father, not to think of de¬ 
 basing himself by a visit to such a den of perdition.” 
 Higher cares had diverted Mr. Paragreen’s thoughts 
 from this channel, but when, after the signal slip of 
 
136 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 the cup of bliss from his lip, he found himself in full 
 dress, and with nothing to do, and Mrs. Dora rather 
 dangerous of approach, he bethought him of the 
 druggist’s dinner conversation. Mr. Paragreen then 
 communed with himself, whether, as a practical man, 
 he had not better use the hour or two so unexpectedly 
 at his disposal, and see that reproduction of the gar¬ 
 dens of Armida in the Champs Elysdes. Such was 
 the concatenation of circumstances which led Mr. 
 Paragreen to that den of perdition of the Jardin 
 d’Hiver. 
 
 He deserved what he found, and that was a soir4! 
 de concert—very orderly, very dull, very innocent— 
 and very scantily attended; just what a deceived 
 wife’s heart could desire. Mr. Paragreen looked right, 
 then left, seated himself in a comfortable corner, lis¬ 
 tened a while to the music-^—but ignorant whether it 
 was German or Italian, knew not if he were to admire, 
 or find it detestable—and finally fell asleep. 
 
 On hearing from Ida that Mr. Paragreen was gone 
 out, his worthy spouse made no remark, but went to 
 the window, and began a devil’s tattoo on the glass. 
 After half an hour of this agreeable exercise, Mrs. 
 Paragreen started from her chair, saw the little girls 
 to bed, put on her bonnet, desired Ida to get hers on, 
 and went all the way to the Jardin d’Hiver without 
 
BETWEEN THE CUP AND THE LIP. 
 
 137 
 
 articulating a word. Her countenance was appalling 
 as she entered those dreaded precincts—from her eyes 
 darted flames,—indeed, with her red bonnet on, she 
 might have sat for a Tisiphone. 
 
 However, she was no sooner able to take in at a 
 glance the general physiognomy of the place, than its 
 dulness told on her. It was like oil poured on surg¬ 
 ing waves—her contracted features relaxed—half a 
 smile even played on her lips, at sight of the innocent 
 culprit snoring placidly in his corner. 
 
 “ Wha^t is the news in Galignani’s Messenger? eh !” 
 
 At these words hissed in his ears, Mr. Paragreen 
 sprung up, saw his wife, and began to tremble. 
 
 “ To procure an innocent pleasure for a careful 
 wife, money is wanting, but money can be found and 
 squandered for a husband’s dissipation !” 
 
 “ Oh, Dora! twenty sous,” expostulated Mr. Para¬ 
 green, with a comical mixture of fear and fun. 
 
 “ Twenty sous is too much to pay for putting one’s 
 self in harm’s way, Mr. Paragreen.” 
 
 “ In harm’s way ! ” repeated Mr. Paragreen, with 
 an appealing look all round the room. 
 
 “Now then, Mr. Paragreen, let us make an end of 
 it. Are we to order this uniform and the mantua de 
 gure, or not 1 ” 
 
 “ Well, my dear, if you insist on it, I suppose we 
 
138 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 must,” was the subdued reply, “ but really we are 
 spending lots of money—upon my honour, we are— 
 only this morning’s work cost us £33, 8s., Dora, my 
 love.” 
 
 “We shall be as saving as you like afterwards, I 
 promise you faithfully, Sylvester—but you must grant 
 me this—call it a whim, or what you please, but let 
 me have my way. Just think of Mrs. Jones—and 
 how all Peckham will know, who has a right to take 
 the lead.” 
 
 “ Certainly—but, Dora—the Queen goes away on 
 Monday, and to-day is Thursday—are we to throw 
 away our money for nothing P’ 
 
 “ Suppose the Queen does go, she doesn’t take 
 away the Emperor and the Empress, and their Court, 
 or the Tuileries, or the kings who are coming, and 
 all that, does she ?” rapidly recapitulated Dora with 
 a rising colour. “ Besides, hasn’t His Highness 
 promised us ?—you don’t doubt his word, do you ? ” 
 
 “ Well, my dear, you shall order what you like, I 
 always try to let you have your own way—now, 
 don’t I ?” 
 
 “ That’s speaking kindly and like yourself—Take 
 you all in all, I don’t think there’s a better husband 
 to be found in Christendom.—We had better be going, 
 though.” 
 
BETWEEN THE CUP AND THE LIP. 
 
 139 
 
 “ Bless my heart!” exclaimed Mr. Paragreen, as 
 he put up his glass half-way to the door. “ I say, 
 Dora, look there !” 
 
 And a trying sight it was for a mother. Tobo, 
 supported by the “ vulgar poisoner,” was in the act 
 of crossing the room—his face as white as the hand¬ 
 kerchief he held to his mouth. 
 
 “What’s the matter, Tobo?” cried father and 
 mother, in great alarm. 
 
 “ It’s the confounded music,” hiccuped poor Tobo, 
 “ such an effect upon me—oh ! oh ! ” 
 
 The chemist, leaving his young friend in the care 
 of his parents, ran to look for a coach, and being for¬ 
 tunate enough to find one, Tobo was lifted into it, 
 and taken home. There he was immediately con¬ 
 signed to his bed, and had a plentiful supply of hot 
 camomile, and coffee, thanks to which the equilibrium 
 of his stomach was somewhat restored. The whole 
 time, Tobo never ceased complaining of the music, 
 that horrid French music, which had quite upset him. 
 
 The music, it is needless to say, was not guilty. 
 Tobo had made an appointment with his acquaint¬ 
 ance, the young man of the drugs, to go together to 
 the Jardin d’Hiver. They had taken, on their way 
 thither, a moderate allowance of brandy and water, 
 from which Tobo would have felt no ill effects at all. 
 
140 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 had he not in his foolish love of aping his elders, 
 insisted on smoking a cigar, because the druggist did. 
 The cigar made him feel deadly sick, but he concealed 
 his sufferings, till the heat of the room rendered any 
 further dissembling impossible. 
 
 The odour of tobacco exhaled by the lad’s whole 
 person, revealed to his father and mother the real 
 nature of his attack ; but their parental bosoms were 
 full of compassion, so they put off all lecturing till 
 the morrow. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 MYSTEEIOUS. 
 
 IE first thing Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen did 
 on the morrow of that eventful evening 
 was to go out in search of a uniform and 
 manteau de cour, an undertaking not with¬ 
 out its difficulty; for, having naturally 
 gone to a tailor, in whose windows they 
 saw, in monumental letters, “ English spoken here,” 
 and to a dressmaker, with the same intimation on 
 her brass-plate, our couple discovered what was quite 
 as natural, that not a soul on either premises could 
 speak an intelligible word of the coveted language. 
 
 Fortunately, both the talented artists applied to 
 had uniforms, and manteaux de cour in course of 
 execution—a circumstance that, combined with the 
 few words of French possessed by the husband, and 
 the intelligent pantomime of the wife, enabled our 
 friends to make a choice, agree on prices, and fix as 
 
142 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS, 
 
 the time for the delivery of the articles the following 
 Tuesday. 
 
 The whole transaction did the greatest honour to 
 the hearts of Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen, who vied 
 with each other in discretion and generosity; he 
 insisting on her choosing a costlier material and 
 richer embroidery than that she had first decided on, 
 she urging him, with all her eloquence, to take, 
 instead of the rather sober and comparatively cheap 
 dress of a Member of the Institute, a gorgeous uni¬ 
 form, which turned out to be that of a Marshal of 
 France. 
 
 This matter settled, they returned to the hotel, 
 and met on their way up stairs His Highness’s 
 secretary, who stopped to condole with them, in the 
 most feeling tone, on their last evening’s disappoint¬ 
 ment, adding that he could not, and never should, 
 forgive himself for his stupidity in not having warned 
 them about their dress, though even then, he feared, 
 it would have been too late ; and he ended by as¬ 
 suring them that this untoward event had utterly 
 maiTed the Prince’s pleasure at the Versailles fete. 
 
 The Paragreens said that His Highness was only 
 too good, and that they had just been to bespeak a 
 uniform and manteau de cour. The gentleman in 
 black highly approved of what they had done ; the 
 
MYSTEKIOUS. 
 
 143 
 
 more so, as he knew there was to be a State recep¬ 
 tion at the Tuileries during the ensuing week, and 
 now they would have no disappointment to fear. 
 Upon which assurance husband and wife pursued 
 their journey to their high quarters with feelings of 
 immixed gratification—Mi’. Paragreen more especially, 
 who, during every second of this interview, had been 
 in mortal apprehension of some ‘‘ confidential com¬ 
 munication.” 
 
 This complacent mood of the parents was attended 
 liy the happiest results for the children, and in par¬ 
 ticular for Tobo, who confessed to Ida that he had 
 got up expecting “ a good dressing” from the gover¬ 
 nor. Mr. Paragreen, after a previous consultation 
 with his wife, proclaimed at breakfast a general 
 amnesty, and announced that they should dine at 
 Corazza’s. Smiles and happy little remarks darted 
 about the breakfast table like dancing sunbeams, and 
 not the least pleased of the merry group was the for- 
 giver himself. 
 
 It was nearly midday when the phalanx took 
 the field en route for the Exhibition. Mrs. and Miss 
 Paragreen had occupied much more time than usual 
 in their preparations for going out, and the develop¬ 
 ment of circumference about them, when they issued 
 forth, gave them the look of balloons bent on taking 
 
144 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 flight, rather than of earthly beings made to walk 
 on two legs. This anomalous appearance was the 
 fruit of that “palaver” held by mother and daughter, 
 as you may remember, before a doll in full dress, 
 exhibited in the Lyons department of the Palace of 
 Industry. They had, on comparing notes, come to 
 the conclusion that they were deficient in that comely 
 swelling out which fashion dictated, and had supplied 
 the deficiency by the acquisition of two “ Jupes k la 
 Malakoff,” those charming and graceful appendages, 
 so dear, and justly so, to the fair sex. But enough 
 of this digression. 
 
 After a cursory survey of the great nave of the 
 Palais de 1’Industrie, Mrs. Paragreen, as a matter of 
 course, led the way to the Botunda, the great altar, 
 at which she loved to offer her devotions, and the 
 adoration of the diamonds commenced. Mr. Paragreen 
 and Tobo paid their tribute of homage willingly once, 
 but seeing that the worship was not only about to 
 recommence, but likely to last some time, they agreed 
 to rendezvous on the Estrade at four o’clock, and 
 then father and son went their several ways, leaving 
 the mother and daughters to go theirs. 
 
 During this separation, Mr. Paragreen had a small 
 adventure, scarcely worthy of being so called, but 
 which we have our reasons for recording. Mr. Para- 
 
MYSTEEIOUS. 
 
 145 
 
 green had, as we know, a habit of asking the price 
 of everything he saw, a mere abstract pursuit, for he 
 was without any ulterior views as to purchasing. 
 On this day, a counter on which English china was 
 displayed, particularly attracting his attention, he 
 began his inquiries, and among other articles, asked 
 the cost of a handsome dinner service. It seems that 
 he had done the same on his first visit to the Exhi¬ 
 bition, as the person in charge recognised the querist. 
 Either having private reasons of his own for being 
 out of sorts, or else being naturally coarse and cross, 
 tJie china merchant answered gruffly, “ What’s the 
 use of telling you ? you are not one to buy anything.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen, stung to the quick by the well- 
 aimed shot, replied angrily, How do you know that ? 
 I can tell you, I have enough of Bank of England 
 notes in this” (flourishing his famous pocket-book) “ to 
 pay for all the trumpery in your shop. Put that in 
 your pipe now, and smoke it.” 
 
 And Mr. Paragreen, snorting and puffing, strode 
 away. Under the smart of wounded pride he forgot 
 (alas ! even the most practical of men cannot always 
 be on their guard) that it was rather dangerous to 
 show a well-stuffed pocket-book in a crowd, without 
 even a proclamation that the stuffing was of Bank of 
 England notes. 
 
 K 
 
146 
 
 THE PAEAGKEENS. 
 
 At the appointed time Mr. Paragreen and Tobo 
 joined the rest of the family in the Eotunda. Mrs. 
 Paragreen’s first greeting of her husband was, ‘‘ Have 
 you got your pocket-book “All safe, my dear,” 
 was the reply. 
 
 “ Are you quite sure 
 
 “ Bless my heart! quite sure,” producing it; “what 
 made you doubt it V’ Mrs. Paragreen’s flurried look 
 and words more than justified this question. 
 
 “ I could lay anything,” said Mrs. Paragreen, in 
 explanation, “ that this place is full of pickpockets, 
 I have been pushed, and jostled, and poked at, and 
 what not, in a—most extraordinary manner—^to say 
 the least of it.” 
 
 This was whispered by Mrs. Paragreen to her hus¬ 
 band at intervals, as the whole party, joining hands 
 not to be separated by the undulations of the crowd, 
 strove to force a passage through the principal outlet 
 from the Rotunda. All at once a sharp sound, as if 
 of silk forcibly rent, and a scream from Mrs. Para¬ 
 green, spread a general alarm. 
 
 “Vfhat’s the matter, Dora, dear?” cried the agi¬ 
 tated husband. 
 
 “ My gown, my good eight guinea gown, torn to 
 pieces !” 
 
 The author of the mischief, a short and rather 
 
MYSTEEIOUS. 
 
 147 
 
 shabby individual, was begging ten thousand pardons 
 in French. 
 
 “ He did it on purpose,” cried Tobo; “ I saw him 
 do it with my own eyes.” 
 
 ‘‘ So did I,” interposed a tall, grey-whiskered, com¬ 
 manding-looking gentleman, stepping forward, and 
 resolutely drawing the arm of the offender within his 
 own. 
 
 “ Suivez-moi chez le Commissaire, Monsieur, and 
 you,” (turning to Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen, and speak¬ 
 ing English,) “ have the goodness to accompany us to 
 the Commissary of Police, to give your evidence.” 
 
 ‘‘This man stuck to us all the time we were in 
 the Rotunda,” remarked Mrs. Paragreen. 
 
 “ The greater reason for having him examined,” 
 said he of the grey whiskers; “ we shall soon manage 
 his business for him.” 
 
 The culprit betrayed symptoms of the greatest con¬ 
 fusion, though all the while protesting in French that 
 it was an accident, and that he was innocent. 
 
 “ Tant mieux pour vous, si vous fetes,” said the 
 commanding-looking gentleman, “ this way if you 
 please, gentlemen and ladies,—we must teach these 
 French to respect the English—it is a duty we owe 
 to our country.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen would have willingly dispensed with 
 
148 
 
 THE PAEAGHEENS. 
 
 that duty in the present instance—not that he felt 
 for the criminal, if criminal he were—on the con¬ 
 trary, but our friend did not at all relish the idea of 
 going before a French magistrate, with the probable 
 annoyance of having to give his evidence in French ; 
 but he silently submitted, and followed his conductor 
 to the office of the Exhibition Commissary of Police. 
 
 The affair was quickly arranged. Mr. Commissary 
 listened gravely to the account given him in French 
 by the tall commanding-looking gentleman, received 
 Tobo’s corroborative statement, made of course in 
 English, and then ordered the tearer of gowns away, 
 guarded by two sergens de ville, to Heaven knows 
 what awful chastisement. This settled, he most 
 l)olitely invited Mrs. Paragreen, and her eldest daugh¬ 
 ter, if she liked, to pass into an adjoining room, 
 where they would find women to mend Mi's. Para- 
 green’s dress. While this was being done, the com¬ 
 manding-looking gentleman had ten minutes’ private 
 c;onversation with Mr. Paragreen, in the course of 
 which he managed to draw from the ci-devant cork- 
 merchant his name, address, former calling, domicile, 
 size of family, income, nay, his wife’s relationship fx) 
 Alderman Joliffe. The return of the two ladies put 
 ail end to this confidential talk, and amid thanks 
 given and received, the Paragreens left the Commis- 
 
MYSTERIOUS. 
 
 149 
 
 sary’s office, and immediately afterwards, the Exhi¬ 
 bition. 
 
 “ Upon my word,” said Mrs. Paragreen, with a 
 very heated face, “ these French seamstresses are 
 queer creatures. I never saw such an odd way as 
 they have of mending dresses—if they had been told 
 to search us, they could not have been—more pre¬ 
 posterous.” 
 
 “ Preposterous ! how, my dear ?” asked Mr. Para- 
 green. 
 
 Never you mind—how. No one, who hasn’t 
 gone through it as Ida and I have done, could have 
 an idea of how it was. Hadn’t they the face, the 
 saucy gipsies, to pretend that the poor girl’s dress 
 was tom also, looking for the tears that didn’t exist, 
 here, and there, and everywhere ? I declare to good¬ 
 ness, that it was a downright search of our per¬ 
 sons.” 
 
 And so it was. Thanks to their jupes k la Malakoff, 
 Mrs. Paragreen and Ida had been thoroughly searched 
 from head to foot. But this demands a word or two 
 of explanation. It must be known, that during the 
 last few days a good number of the articles in the 
 Exhibition had been stolen, among others a meer¬ 
 schaum pipe purchased by His Imperial Majesty; 
 and in spite of the strictest vigilance, not one of the 
 
150 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 authors of these thefts could be discovered. The 
 French police, however, had their reasons for sus¬ 
 pecting that some at least of these clever subtrac¬ 
 tions were imputable to talented British individuals 
 of the stronger sex, aided and abetted by female ac¬ 
 complices, who took advantage of the allowable 
 fashionable amplitude of their garments, to conceal 
 and carry off the plunder. Pity it is, that there can 
 he no great good without some little admixture of 
 evil! The broad stream of British nobility and 
 GENTEY, flowing towards the Paris Exhibition, had 
 carried along with it, as even the noblest and clearest 
 of rivers are apt to do, some impure particles—that 
 is, to speak plainly, some of the sharpest members of 
 the respectable brotherhood of the swell mob. 
 
 Pretty certain of this fact, then, the French Police 
 asked the English Police to send over some of their 
 detectives, two of whom constantly mounted guard 
 in the Rotunda. The fabulous circumference of Mrs. 
 and Miss Paragreen, added to their obstinacy in re¬ 
 maining for hours in the Rotunda, had already 
 aroused the attention of the English police officers 
 when the information reached them, that a costly 
 Sevres cup had just been stolen out of that very 
 place. The detectives at once singled out the two 
 ladies on whom they had been keeping an eye, as in 
 
MYSTERIOUS. 
 
 151 
 
 some way or other connected with the robbery. 
 Availing themselves of the repeated rush of people 
 up to the platform, they got near mother and daugh¬ 
 ter, and tried to ascertain if there were anything sus¬ 
 picious under the aristocratic folds of their garments. 
 Common methods failing them, they had hit upon 
 the uncommon one of rending asunder “the good 
 eight guinea gown,” and upon the farce that fol¬ 
 lowed,—which, while establishing the innocence of 
 mother and daughter, gave them such droll ideas of 
 French seamstresses, and of their way of mending 
 dresses. 
 
CHAPTER XIL 
 
 AT CORAZZA S. 
 
 clock of the Palais Royal was striking 
 half-past five, as onr phalanx made their 
 entrance into the Cafd Corazza, with the 
 step and mien of people perfectly deter¬ 
 mined to dine—a determination, however, 
 not so easily to he carried into effect, miless 
 they took a table by storm, for there was not one 
 among all the many in the room unoccupied. 
 
 While Mr. Paragreen, rather disconcerted by the 
 general attention called forth by his own green hat, 
 and the ladies’ Brown Broad Brims, was pointing his 
 eye-glass east, west, north, and south, a lady in a gor¬ 
 geous silk dress, with flounce upon flounce, came up 
 to him, and said something in a very civil voice. 
 Mr. Paragreen rather wondered what such a magni¬ 
 ficent person could want with him, but faithful to 
 his principles of gallantry to the fair sex, made her 
 
AT COEAZZA’s. 
 
 153 
 
 his best bow ; the lady, who was the Dame dii comp- 
 toir, then repeated, “ Par ici. Monsieur,” and with a 
 gesture that translated her words, showed them a 
 small door. Mr. Paragreen manoeuvred his party to 
 the indicated spot, and found there a waiter, who led 
 the way up stairs to an entre-sol, and through another 
 large room full of persons, all busy dining, ushered 
 tliem into what might be termed a light closet, where 
 as yet there was no one. The ceiling was very low, 
 and it was close and hot, but richly and tastefully 
 fitted up. 
 
 “ All right,” exclaimed Mr. Paragreen, rubbing his 
 hands, and taking possession of the largest of the 
 tables, already laid for dinner—“ if we miss the sight 
 and bustle of what is going on down stairs, here we 
 have privacy, and no one to look at us.” Mr. Para¬ 
 green took off his green hat, and put it under his 
 chair. “ Now, let us enjoy ourselves.” 
 
 The waiter handed Mr. Paragreen the printed 
 “ Carte du Kestaurant,” a pencil and a slip of 
 paper. 
 
 “ Pourquoi ? ” asked the Englishman, staring at 
 the three articles. 
 
 “ Pour dcrire le menu de votre diner. Monsieur,” 
 answered the waiter, and disappeared. 
 
 “ Let us see,” said Mr. Paragreen. “ Bless my soul! 
 
154 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 what a confusion—Potages k la Julienne—au viz — 
 au vermicelle—aux macaronf’—(“Faugh! ” cried Mrs. 
 Paragreen, in disgust.) “ Bisque aux dcrevisses—what 
 do you say to that ?—good—we ’ll put it down then. 
 Shall we have ‘anguilles k la tartare P ” 
 
 “ What is that said Mrs. Paragreen. 
 
 “ Why, I don’t know—it looks well in print.” 
 
 “ Suppose it’s only another name for frogs.” 
 
 “ Oh, frogs, my dear, have only one name, green- 
 owls, you know—however, we won’t have the tartares. 
 —Ah ! here’s something capital—patd de foie gras.” 
 
 “ And potatoes, pa,” put in Toho, a great amateur 
 of that tubercle. 
 
 “ Patd de foie gras,” wrote Mr. Paragreen, “ aux 
 pommes de terre.” 
 
 And thus, putting one dish after the other to the 
 vote, for no other reason than its looking well in print, 
 and having it accepted or refused, merely as it sounded 
 pleasantly, or unpleasantly, Mr. Paragreen succeeded 
 in concocting a menu, enough to have raised Mr. 
 Vatel from his grave, and caused him to commit sui¬ 
 cide over again. 
 
 The waiter cast the glance of a critic over the 
 paper, and uttered these words full of wondering 
 reproach—“ Vous ne voulez done pas de roti. Mon¬ 
 sieur ?” 
 
AT CORAZZA’s. 
 
 155 
 
 “ Oh oui, roti, to be sure,” said Mr. Paragreen, 
 embarrassed. 
 
 “ Faut-il vous commander des brochettes d’orto¬ 
 lans ?” 
 
 * “ Oui, trds bun, brochettes d’ortolongs—et,”—pro¬ 
 ceeded Mr. Paragreen, ‘‘ cette chose, you know, vous 
 savez, I mean—cette chose qui est si grosse et”— 
 and to illustrate his meaning, he puffed out his 
 cheeks, and began blowing away as if he were a pair 
 of bellows. 
 
 “ Omelette souffl^e,” said this OEdipus, to whom 
 such inquiries had been propounded hundreds of 
 times before, omelette soufflde.” 
 
 “ That is it,” applauded Mr. Paragreen, “ home- 
 lette sofly—I wonder what brotchets are,” said Mr. 
 Paragreen, as the waiter turned to go away. 
 
 “ Et quel vin prenez vous ?” asked the man, re¬ 
 turning. 
 
 Champagne frappd,” said Mr. Paragreen majes¬ 
 tically, firing off his great gun, and watching the 
 countenance of the waiter to see the effect of his long- 
 prepared shot. The waiter, however, had strong 
 nerves, for not a muscle moved. 
 
 While the whole hungry family were staying their 
 appetites with an occasional mouthful of bread, in 
 walked a gentleman above the medium height and 
 
156 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 breadth, and seated himself at one of the small tables. 
 He was in black, with a thin white mnslin cravat, 
 well-dressed and well-looking, for he had regular 
 features, but in spite of dress and features, there 
 was about him something repulsive; perhaps the 
 fault lay in his massy black beard. 
 
 “ Where have I seen that face before, I wonder,” 
 whispered Mr. Paragreen, “ I am sure I have seen it, 
 and not long ago either.” However, it was not worth 
 thinking about, for, the gentleman having raised his 
 hat on entering the room, father, mother, and chil¬ 
 dren at once set him down as a shopkeeper. 
 
 The new comer drew a letter from his pocket, read 
 it over, with knitted brows, now laying it down, now 
 taking it up again, and giving every possible sign of 
 being annoyed by its contents. 
 
 “ I remember now where I saw him,” whispered 
 Mr. Paragreen anew, “ it was at the Exhibition, near 
 the ehina shop of that brute of a fellow.” The ap¬ 
 pearance of the potage broke the thread of Mr, Para- 
 green’s recollections, and the six fell to eating with a 
 sort of wild curiosity. 
 
 “ Monstrous good, isn’t it ?” interrogated Mr. Para¬ 
 green. 
 
 “ Delicious !” returned Mrs. Paragreen, holding out 
 her plate for more. 
 
AT COHAZZA’s. 
 
 157 
 
 “ Joliffe is a knowing one,” chuckled our good- 
 natured little friend, “ hasn’t he a nose for what’s 
 good !” 
 
 As the words were passing Mr. Paragreen’s lips, a 
 dashing young man with carroty whiskers, and hair 
 parted and laid flat and frizzled in the very height of 
 fashion, his glass stuck in his eye, sauntered in, and 
 going up to him of the black beard, exclaimed, with 
 an unmistakable English twang, Comment 9 a va. 
 Marquis ?” 
 
 “ Not well at all, my lord,” answered the Marquis 
 in English, but with a detestable French accent, and 
 shaking the hand profiered; “I am sent for to Lon¬ 
 don, and must start at once—it is very contrariant 
 —see for yourself,” giving the letter. 
 
 His Lordship read the missive, and said, “ Apres 
 tout, ce n’est que deux jours—juste le temps de 
 donner une signature, et revenir.” 
 
 “ The worse for that,” remarked the Marquis— 
 “ and to have to stay at the Duke’s twenty-four 
 hours—that’s an age for me, I tell you—^you know 
 that I don’t like his Grace.” 
 
 * “ N’importe. Les affaires sont les affaires. Une 
 signature, qui vous donne un chateau, et un pare 
 superbe—Dieu me damne ! vous etes difficile.” 
 
 The Paragreens followed this conversation with 
 
158 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 interest, not because the discourse was of dukes, 
 castles, and parks, but because two noblemen were 
 the interlocutors. To be sure, a mere French Mar¬ 
 quis could not be of much importance to people who 
 had a Prince, so to say, for their intimate friend ; 
 ])ut to breathe the same atmosphere, to feed perhaps 
 on the same potages and brochettes as a Lord—a real 
 English Lord, that was a treat they could not hope 
 for every day. As to his being a real Lord, that was 
 self-evident, they could have sworn to the fact. Only 
 remark the ease with which he dangles his cane, and 
 the noble freedom with which he scans, through his 
 glass, the features of the grown-up ladies present— 
 such ease and freedom could belong to none but a 
 Lord. 
 
 His Lordship having stared at the feminine part 
 of our family to his heart’s content, now condescends 
 to cast his aristocratic eyes over their masculine ac¬ 
 companiment—his glance lingers a moment on Mr. 
 Paragreen, when, lo ! as if electrified, his Lordship 
 starts forwards, crying with outstretched hands, Sir 
 Andrew !—^by Jove !—delighted—how long have 
 you been in Paris T 
 
 The chief of the Paragreens, half proud, half 
 abashed, regrets he has not the honour—there is 
 a mistake—and bowing low, he begs to make him- 
 
AT COEAZZA’s. 
 
 159 
 
 self known to liis Lordship as Mr. Paragreen, of Eden 
 Villa, Peckliam. 
 
 “ Is it possible 1 I beg a thousand pardons— 
 Really, were it not for the voice, I should imagine it 
 was Sir Andrew giving me the cut direct—Sir 
 Andrew Narquotick, M.P. for Dumbshire—very 
 likely you know him—I never saw such a likeness. 
 Ton my word, it is ridiculous, one drop of water is 
 not more like another drop of water, than you are to 
 the worthy baronet.” 
 
 “ Uncommonly odd,” quoth Mr. Paragreen, rather 
 agreeably tickled at being the living portrait of a 
 Baronet and M.P. 
 
 The young nobleman hopes he may be forgiven his 
 intrusion, (energetic Ko—noes ! and assurances that 
 it is quite the reverse, “ an honour,”) supposes Mr. 
 Paragreen and his charming family (bows and smiles 
 from the ladies) have come over to see the Exhibi¬ 
 tion, (emphatic signs of assent,) and my lord renew¬ 
 ing his apologies, gracefully inclines his head, and 
 falls back to his own table. 
 
 The two noble friends being served by this time, 
 began eating like common mortals, and the Para- 
 greens following the good example, there was nothing 
 to be heard for a little while, but the clatter and 
 jingle of knives and forks, and the smacking of lips. 
 
160 
 
 THE PAKAGEEENS. 
 
 diversified by the merry popping of corks. Presently 
 the waiter brought in a reinforcement of champagne 
 for the small table, and on a tray eight capacious wine¬ 
 glasses. His Lordship desired the glasses to be filled, 
 then turning to Mr. Paragreen, he said, “Will you 
 do us the honour to join us in drinking Her Most 
 Gracious Majesty’s health ?” A toast to Pier Most 
 Gracious Majesty can never be refused, so the six 
 Paragreens rose, as did the Marquis, and my Lord, 
 and the eight drank Queen Victoria’s health with the 
 greatest enthusiasm. 
 
 After this there came a second calm, and a good 
 deal of whispering occurred between Mr. Paragreen 
 and the waiter, the result of which was, that this 
 official brought in a fresh supply of champagne, and 
 a second tray, with a second load of glasses for the 
 large table. Mr. Paragreen had a pride of his own, 
 and was not going to be behindhand with any one— 
 no—not with the best lord living. Facing round to 
 the small table, he said, laying a certain stress on 
 each word—“ May I now beg of you, gentlemen, to 
 drink the toast I am about to propose ? To our 
 powerful Ally, the Emperor of the French, and to 
 the August Lady who adorns the French throne by 
 her beauty and virtues.” 
 
 “ With the most heartfelt pleasure,” replied the 
 
AT CORAZZA’s. 
 
 IGl 
 
 personages addressed, and this toast was drunk quite 
 as enthusiastically as the first. 
 
 The champagne had the effect of rendering the two 
 parties more familiar with one another, and the fire 
 of talk from one table to the other almost incessant. 
 The Paragreens thus learned, that the Marquis was 
 the son-in-law of his Grace the Duke of Shaughtbred, 
 and that the object of his journey to England was to 
 take possession, on his wife’s behalf, of some property 
 lately bequeathed to her by an uncle. Meanwhile 
 both dinners were drawing towards their close. 
 
 “ It is growing late, my dear,” said the Marquis, 
 rising, “ and I must see about the money—with your 
 leave,” and away he went. 
 
 “ My friend,” condescendingly explained the young 
 lord, though the Marquis had always spoken in 
 English, “ is gone to look for Bank of England notes 
 in exchange for his French billets de banque—-very 
 disagreeable, the money being different in the two 
 countries.” 
 
 To this Mr. Paragreen perfectly agreed. My lord 
 sat on crunching biscuits and cracking nuts, but said 
 nothing further. Ten minutes had scarcely elapsed 
 when the Marquis returned, a magnificent red and 
 gold pocket-book in his hand, and looking very much 
 chafed. “ The devil take these changers of money, 
 
 L 
 
1G2 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS. 
 
 , and their saint also,” he exclaimed, throwing himself 
 into a chair, “ not one of their sacrd shops open.” 
 The rest of tlie explanation was only for his lord¬ 
 ship’s ear. 
 
 “ What strange coincidences there are in life !” 
 said this last, in a thoughtful way, to Mr. Paragreen. 
 “ It seems that to-day is the fete of the Patron Saint 
 of money-changers, and all their places of business 
 being closed, my friend cannot get the bank-notes he 
 requires.” 
 
 He will find plenty of them at Bolone,” remarked 
 Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 “ But, my dear friend, I arrive at Boulogne at 
 three in the morning, and sail immediately,” said 
 the Marquis. “ How am I to do 1” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen gave a hem ! “ I think I have 
 
 some of the goods you are in search of here,” 
 observed he, with the affected carelessness of a 
 purse-proud man ; and producing his well-lined, 
 sober-coloured pocket-book, — “ How much do you 
 want *?” 
 
 “ Forty pounds at least,” answered the Mar¬ 
 quis, “ as I have no French bills under thousand 
 francs.” 
 
 “ Here’s your money,” said Mr. Paragreen, hand¬ 
 ing over tv/o twenty-pound notes. 
 
AT CORAZZ a’S. 
 
 163 
 
 “ Thank you very much,” returned the Marquis, 
 putting them into his pocket-book, and giving Mr. 
 Paragreen a French note for a thousand francs. 
 “ Thank you very much, sir; you render me a great 
 service. I must see more of you. Will you do me 
 the pleasure of eating a soup with me—quite sans 
 fa9on ? I want to introduce you to Lady Clara, my 
 wife. Ah ! here’s a bill for five hundred francs. 
 
 I thought I had none under a thousand. Perhaps 
 you will not mind giving me twenty pounds more 
 for this ? You spare me the trouble of going to a 
 money-changer in London.” 
 
 “ Very good,” replied Mr. Paragreen, giving a 
 couple of ten-pound notes, and receiving the one for 
 five hundred francs. 
 
 “ Thank you. Now name your day, if you please. 
 Let me see—to-day is Friday—Saturday, Sunday, and 
 Monday—yes, let it be Monday. I shall be back 
 on Monday morning—half-past six o’clock exact. 
 Do you promise 
 
 Mr. Paragreen promised. 
 
 “ Thank you. I then rely on you, and all your 
 family. But I must be gone. Good bye—half-past 
 six—here is my card.” 
 
 And after a cordial shake of the hand with both 
 Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen, Marquis and Lord went off 
 
164 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 in high glee apparently, for their hearty peals of 
 laughter, as they went down stairs, were distinctly 
 audible to those they had just quitted. 
 
 “ Merry dogs,” said Mr. Paragreen, sympathiz- 
 ingly. “ Now, then, let me see,” and he read aloud 
 from the bit of pasteboard he held, “ ‘ Marquis de la 
 Motte d’Or, Rue Las Cases, No. 43.’ So, so, we 
 are going to dine with a real Marquis, and most 
 probably his lordship will be of the party. How 
 easily high connexions are formed in this country— 
 in such an off-hand way too !” 
 
 “ Yes, dear boy,” replied Mrs. Paragreen, if we 
 were going to stay a month—only a month in Paris 
 —there’s no saying where we might not get our 
 foot in.” 
 
 “ Hum ! We must find out this Rue Las Cases, 
 and leave a card for the Marquis, that he may know 
 that we are not nobodies, but have a place of our 
 own, though we ain’t lords or dukes. Think of our 
 taking him for a shopkeeper !” 
 
 “ Well, I can’t say he looks much as if he belonged 
 to the aristocracy; but he’s a foreigner, you know. 
 His Lordship quite threw him into the shade—such 
 a difference to my mind. His Lordship has much 
 more ease ot manner, and speaks better.” 
 
 “ Yes, Dora, you are right; he looks the noble- 
 
AT CORAZZA S. 
 
 165 
 
 man from head to foot, and no mistake. I wonder 
 what is his title T 
 
 Thanks to the champagne, and the stiU more 
 intoxicating draught administered to their vanity, 
 the senior Paragreens saw everything through rose- 
 coloured glasses—even the hill, though it was heavier 
 than they expected. The galleries of the Palais 
 Royal were all in a blaze when they left Corazza’s, 
 and the gardens crowded. The glittering of the 
 shops, the sparkling of the fountains, the animation 
 of the company, made up a scene of splendour, most 
 gladdening to the eyes of our dear friends. 
 
 They enjoyed it to the utmost, then, with slow and 
 lingering steps, took their way home by the Rue Vivi¬ 
 enne, went into Galignani’s for five minutes, to allow 
 of Mrs. Paragreen’s getting some of the last numbers 
 of Galignani’s Messenger, for purposes best known 
 to herself, and Mr. Paragreen one of the last novels 
 to read at home, and along the Boulevard des Italiens, 
 and that of the Oapucines, came to their hotel, old 
 and young agreeing that it had been all perfectly 
 delightful, and that there was no caf6 in the world 
 that could be compared with the Caf6 Corazza. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 JACQUES BONHOMME. 
 
 iUPPOSE we take the children to this Boa de 
 Bolone Tobo tells us such wonders about 
 This motion was made at breakfast on the 
 Saturday morning by Mrs. Paragreen, who, 
 since her misadventure in the Rotunda, had 
 lost some of her partiality for the ^^Diagmans 
 de Coiironne." 
 
 “ And on our way to the Boa we might leave a 
 card at No. 43 in the Rue Las Cases,” suggested 
 Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 ‘‘ If the Roo is on our way to the Boa,” observed 
 Mrs. Paragreen ; a prudent reservation—for, on con¬ 
 sulting the Paris map, it proved that the Rue Las 
 Cases was quite in an opposite direction. 
 
 “ Never mind,” said sagacious Mr. Paragreen, “ all 
 roads lead to Rome, you know. We’ll take a fly by 
 the hour, drive first to the Rue, and when we get to 
 the Boa we can send it away.” 
 
JACQUES BONHOMME. 
 
 167 
 
 ‘‘ Isn’t it nice, just V cried Emma and Arabella, 
 making a rush for their hats. 
 
 But Mr. Paragreen, with all his sagacity, had more 
 than one thing to learn on this day, for, when they 
 came to where he had hired his cab to go to the 
 Jardin d’Hiver, he was made to understand that there 
 existed a police regulation which only allowed of four 
 persons at a time in a double-seated fly. As the case 
 stood, therefore, the choice lay between going on foot 
 or having two coaches. 
 
 “ In for a penny, in for a pound,” said Mr. Para¬ 
 green briskly, as his eye fell on the two little girls, 
 whose faces expressed the extreme of agitated sus¬ 
 pense. “ What’s the use of higgling about spending 
 a few shillings for our own comfort, when”— Mr. 
 Paragreen either left the phrase unfinished, or his 
 words were drowned by the noise of the two coaches 
 setting off. 
 
 Few persons ever passed No. 43 in the Rue 
 Las Cases, when the porte-cochere was open, a very 
 rare occurrence indeed, without being struck by the 
 elegance and snugness of the small hotel situated at 
 the further end of the front court. It is a modern 
 structure, intended evidently only to accommodate a 
 small family, for the main part of the building con¬ 
 sists but of two stories, and the wings simply of a 
 
168 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 ground floor. The centre is surmounted by a cupola, 
 which gives the mansion something the air of a 
 temple—the temple of comfort, perhaps. The flowers 
 and shrubs in bloom, let the season of the year be 
 what it might, which border the double flight of steps 
 leading up to the front door—the door itself of plate 
 glass, shining as a mirror—the snow-white muslin 
 curtains, with their delicate rose-coloured draperies, 
 shading the windows; in short, all that the passer¬ 
 by can take in at a glance, has about it a witching 
 charm, that more than once tempted the chronicler 
 of the Paragreens to break the Tenth Command¬ 
 ment, by saying to himself, I wish that house was 
 mine ! 
 
 There being nobody visible in the porter’s lodge to 
 receive his cards, though a sound of forks and plates 
 close by showed that there were inmates at hand, Mr. 
 Paragreen manfully called out “ Portier !” 
 
 Qu’est ce que c’est 1” grunted a coarse voice in 
 resentful tones, and following on the sound appeared 
 from an inner room a swarthy ill-favoured colossus, 
 with eye-brows as thick and projecting as the mous¬ 
 tache of the best beard-furnished French grenadier. 
 “ II n’y a pas de portier ici.” This was said with 
 sharp brevity, the eye-brows meeting and lowering 
 most ominously. 
 
JACQUES BONHOMME. 
 
 169 
 
 “ Pas de portier ? ” echoed Mr. Paragreen interro¬ 
 gatively, exhibiting his visiting cards. 
 
 “Non, Monsieur,” replied the man sternly, “ il y 
 a im Con-cierrrrr-ge,” (had he said instead “ Emperor,” 
 the speaker could not have accentuated the word 
 more,) “ et c’est moi.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen did not see the distinction, but he 
 had no inclination to dispute the point, so he handed 
 his cards, saying, “Pour le Marquis de la Motte d’Or.” 
 
 “ Sorti” was the brief rejoinder. 
 
 “ Old, parti pour Londres, je sais,” exclaimed Mr. 
 Paragreen, with a capable air. 
 
 “ Je dis sorti et non parti ,growled the Cerberus 
 most distinctly, and, shrugging his shoulders with a 
 look of disgust at the visitor, he slowly withdrew 
 into his inner den. 
 
 “ A pleasant little place, I must own,” said Mrs. 
 Paragreen, casting a parting glance through the porte- 
 cochere. 
 
 “Yes, very—but such a porter I never did see; 
 just like a wild beast—does not even understand 
 French.” 
 
 “As to that, Sylvester, my dear,” returned the 
 lady, jokingly, “it is no great wonder if he does not 
 understand yours.” 
 
 “ Ha ! well—laugh aw^ay at my French as you 
 
170 
 
 THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 please,” said the husband in the same jocular tone, 
 “ but for all that I have got it here,” tapping his 
 forehead. 
 
 “Yes, in the same place, I suppose, with the plan 
 of Paris.” 
 
 “ Very good,” cried the husband, with a hearty 
 laugh, “ well done, Dora—capital hit, upon my 
 word.” 
 
 A proud and happy husband and father did Mr. 
 Paragreen feel himself as he handed his fair partner 
 and his girls out of their respective carriages at the 
 Porte Maillot. We do not ourselves much care to 
 read, and much less still to write, descriptions of 
 parks or palaces, so we shall leave the Bois de 
 Boulogne, its lake, cascades, chMets, &c., undescribed, 
 limiting ourselves to the statement that the Para- 
 greens had a two hours’ delicious stroll through its 
 shades and winding paths, together with a little 
 excursion on the water, Tobo pulling the stroke-oar 
 in gallant style. When it was time to think of 
 leaving, Mr. Paragreen proposed that, for the sake 
 of variety, they should go back by the Avenue de 
 rimpdratrice and the Arc de I’Etoile, instead of 
 returning to Paris by the way they had come. It 
 was just at that period, as everybody knows, that 
 the avenue named after the Empress was throvm 
 
JACQUES BONHOMME. 
 
 171 
 
 open to tlie public, unfinished as it was, and 
 thronged with masons, bricklayers, paviers, and 
 labourers employed in levelling the ground. 
 
 Through this new thoroughfare, then, the Para- 
 greens, with their hop and stride, proceeded, not as 
 usual, three abreast, but Mr. Paragreen with Tobo 
 and the two little girls, and Mrs. Paragreen arm-in¬ 
 arm with Ida, distinctly bent on a tete-h-tete. Mrs. 
 Paragreen had been neither blind nor indifferent to 
 the half-suppressed sighs heaving the bosom of her 
 pretty daughter, as she reviewed a scene but so lately 
 visited with a too charming cicerone ; and seeing and 
 observing, all the mother awoke in Mrs. Paragreen, 
 impelling her to bestow comfort where it was needed. 
 And thus it came to pass that she abruptly burst 
 forth with, “ What the jeuse can be the meaning of 
 that good-for-nothing fellow not making his appear¬ 
 ance ?” 
 
 “ What good-for-nothing fellow, mamma T 
 
 “You know very well, Ida, whom I mean, the 
 dandy with the brougham and fine horse. I begin 
 to suspect you must have thrown him back.” 
 
 “ 0 no, mamma ! at least I don’t think I did ; 
 I am sure I never intended it—mamma!” 
 
 This last exclamation was one of mingled surprise 
 and delight j for,—as Mrs. Paragreen afterwards ob- 
 
172 
 
 THE PAEAGKEENS. 
 
 served, “ speak of yon know who, yon know, and he 
 is sirre to appear,”—there, sweeping by them like a 
 meteor, was the identical brongham, and its grand 
 chestnnt horse, the owner’s fair head and face, tnft 
 on the chin and all, bowing with hnrried grace, and, 
 in a smile of recognition, letting fall the fragrant 
 weed from his rosy lips. 
 
 “I see I mnst take this matter into my own 
 hands,” said Mrs. Paragreen, as she watched the 
 colonr flntter and then fade from Ida’s cheek. “ I 
 mnst and will, for I’ll allow no one, not the Pope 
 himself, to trifle with my danghter’s feelings—a 
 little hop-o’-my-thnmb.—Gracions me, I declare it 
 is raining.” 
 
 “ So it is, and I have got my bine silk on !” 
 cried Ida, in consternation. “ It was so fine only a 
 minnte ago.” : 
 
 The few large drops of rain which had attracted 
 Mrs. Paragreen’s attention soon increased to a regnlar 
 heavy snmmer shower, against which the ladies’ para¬ 
 sols were of little or no avail. “ This way—follow 
 me !” shonted Mr. Paragreen, galloping off with the 
 children and Tobo towards a small bnilding abont a 
 hnndred paces distant by the side of the road, and 
 the only shelter visible in all the cleared-away space ; 
 —“ make haste.” They did rnn as fast as they conld. 
 
JACQUES BONHOMME. 
 
 173 
 
 and were soon under cover of the widely projecting 
 eaves of a small wooden house, or rather shed, for 
 it was, in fact, nothing but a mere temporary tavern 
 or public-house, erected for the accommodation of 
 the men at work in the Avenue, groups of whom 
 were converging from all points thither at this very 
 moment of time. The violence of the rain augment¬ 
 ing, and the roof proving but a poor shelter, Mr. 
 Paragreen saw no reason why he and his should not 
 do as they had seen many others do. 
 
 Accordingly, they went inside into a large naked 
 room, the only furniture of which was a set of rough 
 deal tables, with wooden benches round them, and 
 most of the seats and tables already occupied by 
 working men, many of them drinking. Mr. Para¬ 
 green espying an empty table at the furthest end of 
 the room from the door, led the way to it, the ladies 
 taking possession of the bench, while the gentlemen 
 seated themselves on the table. It is next to useless 
 to add that the father and son no more thought of 
 raising 'their hats on entering than of bowing to the 
 lamp-posts in the street. 
 
 Now, Jacques Bonhomme is the politest of men. 
 He never goes into a cafd, a restaurant, a shop, an 
 omnibus, a railway carriage, or a railway waiting- 
 room, any place, in short, where human beings are 
 
174 
 
 THE PAEAGREEHS. 
 
 congregated, without at least touching his head-gear. 
 But exactly because the best bred of men, the 
 Frenchman is also the most sensitive to any neglect 
 of the forms of civility, especially so when he belongs 
 to those labouring classes, which nowhere feel their 
 importance, and the respect they are entitled to, 
 more than in France, and particularly in Paris. On 
 the score of politeness, the Parisian artisan is most 
 ticklish and exacting. It is not to be wondered at, 
 then, if the advent of Mr. Paragreen handling his 
 eye-glass, with green hat immovable, and his head 
 waving with a patronizing air from side to side, 
 awakened feelings of irritation among the present 
 company, who took this sort of behaviour for an 
 intentional bravado. Mr. Paragreen, on his part, 
 was quite at a loss to account for the hostility of 
 the glances he encountered, and still less could he 
 assign a cause for the threatening attitude assumed 
 by a young mason, who, backed by five or six other 
 men, and soon joined by most of the rest, advanced on 
 a sudden tov^ards him, and crossing his arms over his 
 breast, exclaimed, “ Ah! 9 a, dites done, sacre muffle !” 
 
 “ Plait il V said Mr. Paragreen, looking benig- 
 nantly at the speaker. 
 
 “ Aviez vous peur de vous ddsarticuler le bras en 
 saluant des Chrdtiens T pursued the other. 
 
JACQUES BONHOMME. 
 
 175 
 
 This was Sanscrit to our little man, who, however, 
 perceived the urgency of saying something concili¬ 
 atory, and bethought himself of that which had done 
 him such good service on other occasions, so he 
 Teplied, “ Anglais—Allies.” 
 
 “ Allies tant que vous voudrez,” answered the 
 Frenchman, somewhat softened, “ mais au moins il 
 faudrait y mettre de la politesse. Voyons—allez vous 
 oter ce champignon, oui ou non ?” 
 
 Had he said “ chapeau,” ten to one but Mr. Para- 
 green would have been enlightened as to the true 
 cause and front of his offending, but of the word 
 ‘‘ champignon” (the famous green hat was not unlike 
 one) Mr. Paragreen could make neither head nor 
 tail. 
 
 No satisfaction, or even answer, being vouchsafed, 
 the mason made a dash at the green hat, but without 
 success, its owner having jumped back in time. klr. 
 Paragreen, who was miles away from any conception 
 of the reason of the Frenchman’s conduct, but natu¬ 
 rally enough saw in it a most unjustifiable assault, 
 fired up in his turn. Every drop of blood in his 
 veins tingled, bringing back a gleam, a feeling, a 
 whiff of old times—of school, bundles of books, box¬ 
 ing, and black eyes. “ At them, Tobo, my boy. Old 
 Enofland for ever, hurra !” shouted the little man. 
 
176 
 
 THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 doubling his fists and squaring ; “ come on, my fine 
 fellow.” Tobo, delighted at the spree, stripped off 
 his jacket in a twinkling, and threw himself into a 
 scientific attitude, while Mrs. Paragreen, giving the 
 table a violent push, with the spring of a tigress 
 forced herself between her husband and son, the most • 
 dangerous-looking perhaps of the three. With flash¬ 
 ing eyes, doubled fists, chests out, and backs in, they 
 were really superb to look at. Ida, and her sisters 
 from behind, thrust their parasols forward lancelike 
 between the others, and never, since its formation, 
 had the Macedonian phalanx presented so imposing a 
 front. 
 
 This undaunted bearing, as if by magic, changed 
 the feelings of the assailants. Bravery is a talisman 
 of infallible effect with the brave. The Frenchman 
 who is compelled to say of his antagonist, “ il a du 
 coeur,” is already more than half disposed to shake 
 hands with him.. Things did not go so far as this, 
 however, in the present case, but the leader of the 
 attack fell back a pace or two, and looked irresolute. 
 This gave time for a few cooler heads to interfere. 
 The young mason was surrounded, reasoned with, and 
 gently forced away, as well as the more excited of 
 his followers. By degrees, something like calm was 
 restored, and the family were left standing with a 
 
JACQUES BONHOMME. 
 
 177 
 
 clear space before them. Into this species of arena 
 stepped a middle-aged workman, evidently one having 
 authority over his fellows, who made a short, and, 
 judging by the approving nods and murmurs it 
 elicited from his hearers, a most instructive and im¬ 
 pressive address to Mr. Paragreen. As far as we 
 have been able to ascertain, this speech was a free 
 paraphrase of Burns’s famous line, “ A man’s a man 
 for a’ that.” This done, the successful orator made 
 a sweeping salutation with his cap, and went out to 
 his work, as did the rest, each man, half in sport, 
 half in irony, using the same gesture, and the Para- 
 greens were left alone in mute wonder. Mrs. Para¬ 
 green smoothed down her ruffled feathers, Tobo put 
 on his jacket, and the whole party, glad to find 
 that the rain had ceased, made their retreat in good 
 order. 
 
 “ What a set of savages !” exclaimed Mrs. Para¬ 
 green, when she found herself safe in the open air. 
 
 “ Dash me ! if I can make it out,” returned her 
 husband, his blood still on the boil ; “it was a mercy 
 that they had sense enough to discover that they had 
 difficult customers to deal with.” 
 
 “ Yes, you behaved like a man, I must say that 
 for you, Sylvester,” said Mrs. Paragreen, “ and so did 
 Tobo.” 
 
 IVI 
 
178 
 
 THE PAEAGEEEHS. 
 
 “You were the best man of us all, I believe, Dora 
 dear; upon my word, I do not know who would 
 have dared to face you. I am the father of a family, 
 and like peace and order, but when the devil is roused 
 within me”—a flourish of the hand rounded the 
 sentence. 
 
 “I do wonder what could be their motive for 
 attacking us in that way ?” 
 
 “ Who can tell ? probably to rob us.” 
 
 “ Oh no! Papa,” cried Ida and Tobo simulta¬ 
 neously, “they had not the look of thieves—they 
 were very angry—we must have given them some 
 offence.” 
 
 “ But how could we T said Mr. Paragreen ; “ I am 
 sure we were as polite as possible to them—Ha ! I’ll 
 tell you what it was-—democratic spirit, which hates 
 the sight of well-dressed people ; you saw that they 
 took a dislike to us from the first.” 
 
 “ VvYll, perhaps you are right,” observed Mrs. Para¬ 
 green doubtingly, “ but I would give something to 
 know what that grey-haired man meant by all the 
 gibberish he said to us—he spoke from his heart, I 
 could make that out. It’s rather a pity, Sylvester, 
 you lost your French on the Bolone Railway.” 
 
 Our friends had a right to some compensation after 
 this disagreeable mishap, and a very sweet one 
 
JACQUES BONHOMME. 
 
 179 
 
 awaited them at dinner that day; for scarcely had 
 they made their hows and courtesies to His Highness, 
 when the Prince, in a clear, high-pitched voice, meant 
 to be heard by every one at the table, said, “ Mr. 
 Pappagreen—Madam—I am delighted to see you and 
 your charming family looking so well.” These words 
 put an instantaneous stop to some significant smiles 
 and whispers, with which the Paragreens’ appearanee 
 had been saluted. Somehow or other, a vague 
 rumour had got afloat among the company, that 
 Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen, after pretending they were 
 going to the fete at Versailles, had not been there at 
 all, the Honourable A. Smallwhey protesting he had 
 not seen them, which was very true, the Honoirrable 
 not having been there himself. 
 
 The little levee held by the Prince after dinner, 
 afforded another triumph to our family. His High¬ 
 ness conversed with them for full five minutes, and 
 was heard to exhort them to prolong their stay in 
 Paris for another week, as Paris would be very gay. 
 His Highness made his wish to distinguish them 
 conspicuous. What could be his motive ? Was it 
 connected or not with the request for a private 
 interview on business, soon after received by Mr. 
 Paragreen from the Prince’s secretary 1 
 
 Mr. Paragreen, not without a shudder at the re- 
 
180 
 
 THE PAKAGREENS. 
 
 collection of the last “ confidential communication,” 
 answered nevertheless courteously, that he was at the 
 Secretary’s service at all times, but that if the busi¬ 
 ness was not of a very urgent nature,—which the 
 Secretary allowed it was not—he, Mr. Paragreen, 
 would prefer spending the next day, Sunday, quietly 
 with his family, and postponing all affairs till Mon¬ 
 day morning at nine o’clock ; an arrangement agreed 
 upon. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 DINNER IN THE RUE LAS CASES. 
 
 N Monday morning, at the appointed lionr, 
 there came a gentle tap at the door of what 
 served for Tobo’s bed-chamber by night, and 
 the family sitting-room by day. Mr. Para- 
 green, on hearing this signal, threw down 
 the book he had been reading, and went to 
 meet Mr. Secretary half-way. 
 
 “ Good morning, Mr. Pap—Paragreen, I am sorry 
 to intrude on you so early, but I shall not detain you 
 long, for of course you will not allow your Gracious 
 Sovereign to leave the French capital without having 
 another peep of her.” 
 
 Certainly not,” affirmed Mr.Paragreen. 
 
 ‘‘ Well, then, without any preamble, I must at 
 once state openly and candidly that I am come to 
 you for advice and guidance. I come to you because 
 I am sure you are a man of discretion, experience, 
 
182 
 
 THE PAKAGEEENS. 
 
 and connections—yes, sir, of powerful connections, 
 and one, I trust, I am not mistaken in considering 
 His Highness’s friend.” 
 
 “ His Highness’s great admirer and sincere well- 
 wisher at least,” returned Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 “ Thank you ; I have not the least doubt of it. 
 It is strange, isn’t it, the sudden likings one takes 
 to people. Now, His Highness took a fancy to you 
 all from the very first. I think you are aware of 
 the regard he has for you. Only last night he was 
 saying to me, ‘ I must get Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen in¬ 
 troduced at the Tuileries; I must, even if I am obliged 
 to ask it as a personal favour of His Majesty.’ ” 
 
 “ His Highness, indeed, has always been kinder 
 to us than we had any right to expect,” observed 
 Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 “ That is your opinion. Allow me to differ from 
 you. But I must not trespass on your time and 
 patience. The affair—you understand that this is 
 strictly confidential,” (these words made Mr. Para¬ 
 green flush all over,) “ indeed. His Highness, up to 
 this moment, is absolutely ignorant of what I am 
 going to confide to you.” 
 
 “ Very good, sir ; you may depend on me.” 
 
 “ I know I can, and that is why I am here. 
 Well, sfi, if my memory does not fail me. His High- 
 
DINNER IN THE RUE LAS CASES. 
 
 183 
 
 ness did once mention to you a stupendous enter¬ 
 prise in contemplation, the profits of which can 
 hardly be estimated, and in which he was urged and 
 pressed to invest a certain sum.” 
 
 Scarcely touched on the subject,” was the 
 laconic reply, 
 
 “ But he did touch on it, so I feel at liberty to 
 sjieak to you about it. This undertaking is one by 
 which it is intended to substitute for the bread now in 
 common use another kind, purer, easier of digestion, 
 more nourishing, and at a third of the present cost.” 
 
 Indeed ! is it possible ?” exclaimed Mr. Para- 
 gi’een. 
 
 ‘‘Not only possible, my good sir, but already 
 realized. Experiments have been made on a very 
 large scale, and they have answered extraordinarily 
 well. I daresay you have heard of the dwarf palm, 
 which infests the soil of Algeria to such an extent 
 as to prevent colonization. Now, listen. We take 
 that injurious shrub, sir, we pound it, reduce it to 
 powder, mix with that powder a small proportion of 
 ground rice, and our bread is made. The beauty of 
 the thing is, that while on the one hand we dispense 
 to the poor an article of primary necessity at a cheap 
 rate, on the other we render whole tracts of hitherto 
 waste lands available to agriculture. So both ways 
 
184 
 
 THE PAKAGEEENS. 
 
 we confer an incalculable benefit on mankind. I 
 leave it to you to judge now of wbetber the profits 
 can be anything but immense.” 
 
 “ I see, I see !—And” (the question was put with 
 some anxiety by Mr. Paragreen,) is this dwarf 
 palm tree so very abundant in Algeria T 
 
 “ Beyond all conception, sir j we have material 
 enough there to furnish the whole world with bread 
 for centuries to come.” 
 
 “ Bless my heart!” ejaculated the little man, now 
 in real alarm, “what will come of our corn-growers!” 
 
 “ Why,” replied the secretary, shrugging his shoul¬ 
 ders, “ we shall be very sorry for them, but they must 
 just grow something else, you know—we cannot 
 sacrifice the good of the many for that of the few.” 
 
 “ But it will be the ruin of English agriculturists. 
 Sir, the utter ruin.” 
 
 “ Not,” said the secretary with a calm smile, “ if 
 English agriculturists take shares in time in the enter¬ 
 prise—it’s only changing their capital from one secu¬ 
 rity to another. But now to come to the point. I 
 have it greatly at heart that His Highness should 
 become a shareholder, and invest not less than five 
 thousand pounds in the speculation, morally certain 
 as I am, that in the course of two or three years it 
 will give him a net income equal to the sum invested. 
 
DINNEE IN THE EUE LAS CASES. 
 
 185 
 
 I cannot doubt but that the Western Powers in the 
 end will come out of this war victorious, and conse¬ 
 quently, that His Highness’s dominions will be even¬ 
 tually restored to him. Still, the struggle may last, 
 God knows how long; and even in case of a peace, 
 there are always delays—my fears may be exaggerated 
 —I daresay they are—attachment is easily alarmed, 
 you know—in short, I feel it my duty not to let slip 
 so promising an opening without an attempt to profit 
 by it. But how ? when, alas! His Highness has not the 
 first farthing of the five thousand pounds required!” 
 
 “ You don’t say so ?” panted Mr. Paragreen, with 
 deep feeling. “ Don’t you think that the weather is 
 uncommonly hot this morning ?” 
 
 “Not for the season, the thermometer only marks 
 twenty centigrades in the shade. As I was saying, 
 the question is how best to raise the money,” pur¬ 
 sued the secretary, “ and here it is that your assist¬ 
 ance may prove of so much use to the Prince.” 
 (Mr. Paragreen could have taken his oath that the 
 mercury was up to boiling point.) “You must know 
 that, when His Highness’s Palace was sacked and 
 plundered, and His Highness dragged to prison, (I 
 will tell you the whole story one of these days, and 
 all about his miraculous escape,) some of his faithful 
 servants, myself among the number, succeeded in hid- 
 
186 
 
 THE PAEAGKEENS. 
 
 ing, and carrying away a scanty few of the Crown 
 Jewels. These remnants of ancient splendour His 
 Highness would of course never part with—His High¬ 
 ness considers them as the property of the State— 
 but he might be persuaded, I hope and believe, into 
 pledging them for a sum of money.” 
 
 “ Nothing more easy,” returned Mr. Paragreen, 
 brisking up as if the weather had suddenly cooled, 
 “ nothing more easy ; any large pawnbroker in Lon¬ 
 don will manage the business for you at once.” 
 
 “ Not so easy, sir, as you think. The Jewels I am 
 speaking of, are as well known in Europe as those 
 belonging to the French or English Crown. His 
 Highness is proud, not without reason, and for no¬ 
 thing in the world would he have it said that he had 
 pawned his Crown Jewels. Just think how all the 
 papers in the Eussian interest would teem with calum¬ 
 nious hints, and of all the scandal such a disclosure 
 would cause. Pawnbrokers, and all those sort of 
 people, would never answer. Do you take me ? ” 
 
 ‘‘ I am not sure that I do.” 
 
 “We must be protected, sir, safe from all possible 
 indiscretion, and to be so, we must not go to the 
 trade. Wliat we require is a person of undoubted 
 respectability, one on whose secrecy we may rely—a 
 friend, in short, who, in good faith, and without any 
 
DINNER IN THE RUE LAS CASES. 
 
 187 
 
 sort of fuss, you know, inter nos^ as I might say, 
 takes the jewels with one hand, and counts out the 
 £5000 with the other.” 
 
 The bait was evidently too large, and would not 
 do. 
 
 “You will hardly find a man out of trade to ac¬ 
 commodate you,” observed Mr. Paragreen, musingly. 
 “ Jewels are peculiarly liable to sudden falls in value 
 —not easily turned into cash at any time, and five 
 thousand pounds is a large sum—a large sum.” 
 
 “ One thousand, strictly speaking, might do for a 
 first instalment,” returned the secretary, who felt the 
 expediency of reducing the bait to more swallowable 
 proportions. “As to finding such a man as we re¬ 
 quire, with money to spare, and not in trade, I never 
 dissembled to myself the difficulties of the under¬ 
 taking, but I had hoped to overcome them by the 
 help of a person in your position and with your 
 connections.” 
 
 “ I don’t say it can’t be done,” said Mr. Paragreen, 
 still politely declining the bait, “ particularly if you 
 limit your demand to £1000 ; but the business will 
 require time and consideration. I confess that, at 
 this moment, I don’t call to mind any one to whom I 
 could recommend you to apply—but in my connec¬ 
 tion, which, as you say, is not a narrow one, I may 
 
188 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 be able to meet with some one, in or out of trade, 
 who will suit you. I will think over it, and let you 
 know as soon as I can.” (All the while, truth to 
 say, Mr. Paragreen had his mental eye fixed on a 
 little pawnbroker in Tottenham Court Road, with 
 whom the ci-devant merchant had had little out-of- 
 the-way analogous transactions, during his own busi¬ 
 ness career.) 
 
 I should not mind a trip to London,” said the 
 secretary, ‘‘ if you thought it advisable. I should 
 only be too happy to form one of your party.” 
 
 “ We should be delighted indeed.” 
 
 “ Perhaps you will give me leave to call again 
 to-morrow morning—not that I mean to press you as 
 to that matter, God forbid, but I should be so glad 
 to see the charming little ones.” 
 
 “You are always welcome, sir; we will say, if 
 agreeable to you, ten o’clock, I mean after our 
 breakfast.” 
 
 Ten would answer exactly, and his secretaryship 
 took his leave with a face of sunshine, but his inner 
 man as black as ink. His hopes of the thousand 
 pounds were so faint, that had he been offered a ten- 
 pound note for his chance, he would have struck the 
 bargain on the spot. 
 
 The family made a hurried breakfast, and reached 
 
DINNEE IN THE EUE LAS CASES. 
 
 189 
 
 the Boulevards early enough to have a full hour to 
 wait, before they had the opportunity of wishing Her 
 Majesty a good journey ; that duty performed, they 
 agreed upon-going to see what the Exhibition of Fine 
 Arts was like. But the Fine Arts did not answer at 
 all. The Paragreens had scarcely gone through the 
 room of English Painting, when Mrs. Paragreen de¬ 
 clared it made her eyes ache, and was very tiring 
 always to see the same thing over and over again, 
 and that they had better go home. Accordingly 
 they went home, and on their way ordered two car¬ 
 riages from the livery stables close by, to be at the 
 Hotel at six o’clock precisely. The intervening hours 
 were spent by mother and daughters in mysterious 
 preparations for the dinner toilet, (the dinner at the 
 Corazza’s Marquis, you recollect.) Mr. Paragreen 
 tried to finish the book bought at Galignani’s, Tobo 
 took the Galignani’s Messengers purchased by his 
 mother, and singled out for perusal all the murders, 
 and poisonings, and other spicy matters; which was 
 no sinecure. 
 
 It wanted but a minute of half-past six o’clock by 
 Mr. Paragreen’s watch, when the two coaches with 
 himself and family, stopped at Ho. 43, Bue Las 
 Cases, and coachman Ho. 1 alighting, gave a single 
 knock at the porte-cochere. 
 
190 
 
 THE PARAGHEENS. 
 
 “ Gracious me !” exclaimed Mrs. Paragreen, “ the 
 man’s a fool—only a single knock, what does he 
 take us for 
 
 Without a word, Mr. Paragreen darted from the 
 coach, grasped the knocker, and thundered forth such 
 a rap as, since the world began, was never before 
 heard out of Belgravia. The effect was instantaneous 
 and tremendous. The porte-cochk^e expanded with 
 a frightful clang, the latch continuing to jerk up and 
 down, as if seized with frenzy. The glass door of 
 the house crashed on its hinges, two footmen in lively 
 alarm springing out on the steps. Shut windows 
 opened, open windows opened wider, and from every 
 aperture out came heads and cries both loud and 
 shrill, of “ What’s the matter ?” The loge vomited 
 forth the shaggy-browed Cerberus, his wife, children, 
 and stranger within his gates—all in a state of exas¬ 
 peration, and all of them together answering the calls 
 from the glass door and windows ; while by way of 
 doing what he ought to do, a large dog in a kennel 
 rushed forth, barking furiously, and tearing with all 
 his might and main to get clear of his chain, and 
 make mince meat of the intruders. 
 
 And amidst all this uproar and confusion, its uncon¬ 
 scious cause, the Paragreen family, were seen moving 
 up gravely, three abreast, towards the glass door. 
 
DINNER IN THE RUE LAS CASES. 
 
 191 
 
 The reception they met with from the footman was 
 not over gracious. “ The Marquis could not receive 
 visitors at that hour,” it was “ I’heure de son 
 diner.” 
 
 “ Dinnke ? tr^s bong,” cried Mr. Paragreen, most 
 good-humouredly ; “ nous sommes pour dinn^re also.” 
 
 The little man’s assured tone told on the servant, 
 who, taking the card proffered by Mr. Paragreen, 
 went into the house, and almost immediately re¬ 
 turned to usher Monsieur and Madame Papagrand, as 
 he announced them, into a large room, in which there 
 were only two persons, a lady and gentleman—the 
 very lady and gentleman—(now, don’t say it is not 
 true, because unlikely,—truth often is, you know)— 
 who had travelled from Boulogne to Paris in the 
 same carriage as the Paragreens, and to whom Mrs. 
 Paragreen had so liberally granted a patent for vid- 
 garity. 
 
 The first movement of both parties betrayed un¬ 
 feigned surprise, mixed up on the part of our hero 
 and heroine with quantum suff of mortification, on 
 that of the other couple with a strong wish to laugh. 
 There now, thought Mr. Paragreen, we go out once 
 in a way to dinner, and just that once we must light 
 on the only people we had rather not meet—and 
 taking it for granted that these were other guests, 
 
192 
 
 THE PAEAGKEEHS. 
 
 polite enough they seemed after all, he said to the 
 gentleman, who had advanced some steps towards 
 him, “ I hope the Marquis is well T 
 
 “ Quite well, I thank you,” answered the gentle¬ 
 man, in tolerable English. 
 
 “ He has had a good journey also, I trust,” went 
 on Mr. Paragreen, blandly. 
 
 “ Thank you,” returned the other, as if he did not 
 quite comprehend. 
 
 Having thus spoken, with a slight bow at the 
 close of each sentence, while courtesies were being 
 exchanged between Mrs. and Miss Paragreen and the 
 stranger lady, Mr. Paragreen considered he had offered 
 a sufficient sacrifice on the altar of civility; he there¬ 
 fore turned on his heels, and holding his glass to his 
 eye, began to examine the pictures on the walls. 
 
 One of those furtive smiles and looks, full of fun 
 nevertheless, which we have before noticed, now 
 passed between the French lady and gentleman ; 
 then the latter, going up to Mr. Paragreen, said, “ I 
 beg your pardon for the question, but have you any¬ 
 thing to communicate to the Marquis 
 
 “ Nothing in particular. Sir,” said Mr. Paragreen, 
 resuming his examination. 
 
 “ Surely your visit has an object ?” insisted the 
 Frenchman. 
 
DINNER IN THE RUE LAS CASES. 
 
 193 
 
 “ Certainly, and a very pleasant one,” answered 
 the Englishman, rather superciliously; “ that of din¬ 
 ing with my Lord Marquis.” 
 
 ‘‘ Dining with the Marquis ! Excuse me, Sir, dt> 
 you know him personally ?” 
 
 “ Of course I do,” said Mr. Paragreen, a little 
 provoked at being thus cross-examined—“we received 
 the invitation from his own lips.” 
 
 “ Then there must be some mistake, as I am the 
 only Marquis of the name extant in France.” 
 
 “ You 1 —you the only Marquis de la Motte d’Or!” 
 cried Mr. Paragreen in the greatest bewilderment. 
 “ And you haven’t a brother, or son, or cousin, or 
 some relation or other—a tall handsomish man of 
 five-and-thirty, or forty, with a black beard, and who 
 has the same name as you ?” 
 
 “ None,” said the Marquis; “ there is, I assure you, 
 no other De la Motte d’Or but myself.” 
 
 It was Mr. Paragreen’s turn now to make excuses 
 and beg pardon. He briefly related under what cir¬ 
 cumstances the invitation had been given, suppress¬ 
 ing, however, the previous exchange of bank-notes, 
 and then took out of his pocket, and showed the card 
 he had received at Corazza’s. It was, in fact, one of 
 his own cards, said the real Marquis, and had cer¬ 
 tainly come from his own card-case, a rather valuable 
 N 
 
194 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 one which he had lost, or been robbed of not long 
 ago ; and he supposed that the person who had got 
 it now, must be either a wag, who liked a joke, or 
 more probably still, an adventurer, who was trading 
 under the Marquis’ name. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. 
 Paragreen, however, would admit of this last hypo¬ 
 thesis, and brought as unanswerable arguments against 
 it the very distinguished appearance of the soi-disant 
 Marquis, and his intimacy with an English Lord. On 
 being asked the name of this lord, om* friends were 
 obliged to confess, to their gveat annoyance, that they 
 did not exactly know the English nobleman’s title, it 
 not having, some how or other, been once uttered by 
 his companion; an omission which caused Monsieur 
 de la Motte d’Or to stick more obstinately than ever 
 to his opinion, that they had been duped by a cheva¬ 
 lier d’Industrie. 
 
 The Marchioness perceiving that our friends were 
 really shocked by such an idea, cleverly gave her hus¬ 
 band a hint to let the subject drop, and said, though 
 their coming was owing to a mistake, she hoped Mr. 
 and Mrs. Paragreen would give her and her husband 
 the benefit of that mistake, by cordially accepting a 
 dinner very cordially offered. In this invitation the 
 Marquis joined with a very good grace, and after a 
 little skirmishing, mention of fear of intrusion, &c.. 
 
DINNEK IN THE EUE LAS CASES. 
 
 195 
 
 on the part of our family, the polite proposal was 
 agreed to, and Mrs. Paragreen and her daughters 
 were shown into an adjoining boudoir, where they 
 deposited their opera cloaks, and assured themselves 
 that they were all right. They re-entered the salon 
 in time to hear Monsieur le G^ndral Comte d’Estong 
 announced, and to identify in the Count the military¬ 
 looking gentleman with the grey moustaches, and red 
 rosette—the perpetrator of that salute which had so 
 scandalized our Englishwoman. Introduced by the 
 Marchioness to her impromptu guests as “ My uncle,” 
 the new arrival not only repeated his former offence 
 by kissing his niece’s hand, but deliberately raised 
 Mrs. Paragreen’s also to his lips; nor did that lady 
 now consider the compliment as a proof such bad 
 taste. 
 
 When they went to dinner, the Marquis handed in 
 Mrs. Paragreen, (if he had only been an English Mar¬ 
 quis ! thought Dora,) the Count took pretty Ida, and 
 then the noble hostess, motioning to tall, sheepish 
 Tobo to go on with his little sisters, followed herself, 
 leaning on the arm of Mr. Paragreen, who sidled and 
 flapped his wings, arms we mean, and hopped away 
 more on tiptoe than ever. 
 
 The Marchioness, anxious to put her new acquaint¬ 
 ances at their ease, carefully broached only those 
 
196 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 topics she supposed most calculated to interest them, 
 such as the Queen’s visit, the London Crystal Palace, 
 the success of the English painters at the Exhibition 
 of the Fine Arts, &c. The Count peppered the con¬ 
 versation, so to say, with his humorous sallies and 
 facetious allusions to their meeting on the railway, 
 but most of all with the drollest English ever spoken. 
 “ Anoder bumpke to our entike reconciliation, Mr. 
 Paragrin, and let all rancune to de bouton of de 
 glass. You were fachdd all red. Do not say non. 
 If you had kept me into an egg, I was flambdd— 
 you did me such eyes dat k la fin I must save 
 myself” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen took everything in excellent part, 
 and, with the exception of some occasional short fits 
 of absence, made himself very agreeable. Thus, half 
 between joke and earnest, the Paragreens came to 
 understand how and why their three travelling com¬ 
 panions had not to pass through the fiery ordeal of 
 the waiting-room at Boulogne ; the how and why 
 being that Monsieur le Comte d’Estong held a high 
 military command in the division in which Boulogne 
 was situated, and that the railway managers had 
 naturally wished to show a due regard to one of the 
 first authorities in the Department, and to those 
 with him. 
 
DINNEE IN THE KUE LAS CASES. 
 
 197 
 
 The evening was enlivened by music. Uncle and 
 niece began by playing one of Beethoven’s sonatas 
 for violin and piano, which threw Mr. and Mrs. Para- 
 green into raptures. The Marchioness also sung an 
 air of Bellini’s, and then Ida, being very much 
 pressed, found enough courage to give them a Scotch 
 ballad, with a simplicity that did her the greatest 
 honour, and which received an unanimous encore. 
 Wlien at last Mr. and Mrs. Paragreen rose to take 
 leave, the Marquis told them his britzka was at the 
 door to take them home,—an unexpected attention, 
 which called forth a perfect explosion of really sincere 
 thanks, for of all the kindnesses they had received 
 this last touched their hearts the most. 
 
 “ Oil allons nous ?” asked the coachman. 
 
 “ Palais Royal,” answered Mr. Paragreen, without 
 the least hesitation. 
 
 “ Why, Sylvester, my dear,” began Mrs. Para¬ 
 green. 
 
 “ Palais Royal,” reiterated Mr. Paragreen, whis¬ 
 pering in his astonished mate’s ear, “ Not a word, I 
 beg, we may be overheard—the whole of them seem 
 to speak English.” 
 
 Accordingly they drove to the Palais Royal in 
 complete silence. Alighting here, Mr. Paragreen led 
 them into the first gallery he saw, and began scanning 
 
198 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 the descriptive titles of the shops, now and then 
 showing signs of impatience and disappointment, till 
 he came to one closed, like all those which had been 
 the peculiar object of his investigations, but through 
 the chinks of the shutters of which light within was 
 visible. Mr. Paragreen stopped and rapped, but, 
 getting no answer, he gave the door a push and 
 opened it. “ Est-il bong ?” said he, presenting to 
 the startled inmate the two French bank-notes he 
 had received at Corazza’s. 
 
 “ Trop tard,” said the money-changer, “ la caisse 
 est fermde.” 
 
 ‘‘ Est-il bong, I say ?” insisted Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 The man thus challenged took the notes, ex¬ 
 amined them narrowly, held them up between himself 
 and the candle, and then articulated, “ Excellents.” 
 
 “ Thank you, merci, monseer. All is safe!” 
 shouted Mr. Paragreen, so loud that many of the 
 passers by stood still an instant to look at our 
 excited friend. “ All’s safe ; and now I understand 
 the whole business. Our own Marquis is the friend 
 of the Marquis de la Motte d’Or, and had a card of 
 his in his pocket-book, and gave it by mistake. It’s 
 as clear as day. Now, Dora, am I a practical man 
 or not ? No delay, you see—action—that’s the 
 thing.” 
 
DINNER IN THE RUE LAS CASES. 
 
 199 
 
 No one disputed Mr. Paragreen being the most 
 practical man of his day; and the taboo being 
 raised, the family went home all talking at once 
 over the marvellous events of the day. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CATASTEOPHE NUMBER ONE. 
 
 (TUFF and nonsense!” said Mr. Paragreen, 
 as lie threw down the book he had been 
 reading. 
 
 “ What’s it about asked Mrs. Paragreen. 
 “ The heroine, to begin with, an English 
 young lady, falls in love at first sight with 
 an Italian—so very likely ! ” 
 
 “ Xot so unlikely though,” rejoined the lady. 
 
 Haven’t I told you scores of times of Lizzy Pad- 
 diston, my friend at the Liddels’ school, who went 
 crazy about her singing-master, and married him into 
 the bargain—and then wasn’t there the only daugh¬ 
 ter of Admiral what’s his name, who lived at Twicken¬ 
 ham—didn’t she fret herself into a consumption for 
 the sake of an Italian she met at Nice ? Lor, Mr. 
 Paragreen, you don’t know anything about girls and 
 their ways.” 
 
 “ Well, well, you may be right as to the girl, I 
 don’t pretend to understand your sex, but I know 
 something about my own, and no one will persuade 
 
CATASTEOPHE NUMBEE ONE. 
 
 201 
 
 me that the father is not a mere caricature—an old 
 English gentleman made out as obstinate, stiff-necked, 
 and proud as a mule, turning up his nose at every¬ 
 thing and everybody.” 
 
 “ As to that,” replied Mrs. Paragreen, who was in 
 a vein of contradiction, “ I remember you saying- 
 yourself, that Sir Benjamin Mace the Morisons made 
 such a fuss about, looked as if he had swallowed the 
 poker—and I have not forgotten, if you have, that 
 high and mighty M.P. we met in the lane near Ox¬ 
 ford, who wouldn’t tell us oim way himself, but 
 motioned to us to ask his groom.” 
 
 “ Exceptions, Dora ; you may go the world over 
 and find nothing to match a real fine English gentle¬ 
 man ; after all, we are none of us so bad as we seem, 
 that’s my opinion. Then, bless your heart, there’s 
 such a deal of politics—all well in a newspaper, but 
 out of place in a novel. First, I hate to be made 
 miserable by way of amusement; then how can I tell 
 the fact from the fiction ? If Italian patriots are 
 really hanged and sent to the galleys, and what not, 
 come to me with a plain business-like statement, and 
 no sentimental humbug about it—and like a free¬ 
 born Briton I will lend them a hand—I will, by jingo, 
 —though I hardly know what kind of chaps these 
 Italians are.” 
 
202 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS, 
 
 “ Why, dear me! ” exclaimed Mrs. Paragreen, “how- 
 can you say so, after making such a work about those 
 Sardinian navy officers you met in London the other 
 day ?—to hear you, there wasn’t anything like them 
 in the world.” 
 
 “ And very gentlemanly they were, and quite above 
 the common run ; but our gallant allies, the Sar¬ 
 dinians, my dear, are not Italians.” 
 
 “ They talk Italian at all events,” said Mrs. Para- 
 green, whose notions were, perhaps, owing to Miss 
 Liddels’ boarding-school, less misty as to nationalities 
 than her husband’s. “ Well, what next ? ” 
 
 “ A parcel of absurdities—the heroine is all for love 
 in a cottage, and says she doesn’t care for rank and 
 court—and she is rich you know, and noble, and 
 brought up to all that sort of thing.” 
 
 “ That’s all bosh!” pronounced Mrs. Paragreen with 
 great decision. 
 
 “ Bosh ! ” repeated Mr. Paragreen ; “ Dora, my 
 dear, I do wish you wouldn’t say bosA, —it’s a vulgar 
 word—you ought to know that, you who are so sharp 
 in detecting vulgarity.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen had had this sentiment on the tip 
 of his tongue ever since the discovery of the rank of 
 their travelling companions, so unequivocally set down 
 as “ vulgar” by his spouse. 
 
CATASTEOPHE NUMBER ONE. 
 
 203 
 
 “ How nice we have grown !” said Mrs. Paragreen 
 tartly; ‘‘I remember somebody in the cork line say¬ 
 ing arter, when he was paying his addresses— 
 
 “ To somebody in the drysalter line,” finished off 
 Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 He was terrified at the sound of his own words, 
 and gave himself up for lost. 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen looked at him with that dreadful 
 smile of hers—looked at him for a second, as if 
 she would make only one morsel of him, then 
 said with appalling composure,—“Will you be so 
 kind as to tell me the time by your watch, Mr. 
 Paragreen T 
 
 Mr. Paragreen hastened to answer the ominous 
 query ; it wanted exactly twenty minutes to eleven. 
 
 “ Thank you. I think a little walk in the open 
 air will do you good, Mr. Paragreen. Perhaps you 
 will have the goodness to take Tobo and the children 
 with you, and let me have the pleasure of seeing you 
 here again at two o’clock precisely.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen summoned Tobo and the children, 
 and decamped without another word. 
 
 As soon as they were gone, Mrs. Paragreen and 
 Ida put on their broad brims, and went in a coach to 
 the Rue de Rivoli. Over the windows of the first 
 floor of the house at which they stopped, was a large 
 
204 
 
 THE PAEAGEEEHS. 
 
 sign-board, with this inscription in large golden 
 letters,— 
 
 ME. SHUEFEEY, MEDECIN DENTISTE, 
 
 SUEGEON DENTIST. 
 
 Mr. ShufFrey, the reader need scarcely be told, was 
 the celebrated inventor of the far-famed “ Galvano- 
 Plasto-Mastodon-Self-Masticating RMeliers,” which 
 figured at the Paris Exhibition, and for which the 
 Commissioners awarded the Great Gold Medal to the 
 inventor. Now, a trifle being the matter with one of 
 Ida’s front teeth, her mother prudently wished to 
 have it put to rights abroad rather than at home. 
 Anxious to find out a fashionable and respectable 
 dentist, without committing herself by questioning 
 any of the ladies of the table-d’hote, Mrs. Paragreen 
 had bought that set of Galignani’s Messenger on their 
 way home from Corazza’s, and in her diligent study 
 of the same, had lighted on the following paragraph, 
 iieaded— 
 
 “ Seeious Accident at the Palace of Indus¬ 
 try.—The rush of people to see the famous Me. 
 Shuffeey’s wonderful self-masticatoes was such 
 yesterday, that several ladies m.et with serious in¬ 
 juries—happily, no loss of life to be deplored—and 
 consequently the Police of the Palais de 1’Industrie 
 
CATASTROPHE NUMBER ONE. 
 
 205 
 
 have thought it necessary to place a number of 
 Sergens de Ville round the counter, so as to keep the 
 circulation in that quarter free.” 
 
 Tliis paragraph had put an end to Mrs. Paragreen’s 
 irresolution, and she had managed, by means of epis¬ 
 tolary correspondence, to make an appointment, un¬ 
 known to her husband, with this great artist for 
 eleven o’clock in the forenoon of this present Tuesday. 
 
 Our two ladies were shown into a gorgeously fur¬ 
 nished drawing-room, by a footman in a gorgeous 
 livery, who took their names, and soon after, on the 
 ringing of a little bell, they were introduced by a 
 small groom in top boots, into the sancta sanctorum. 
 The genius loci was stooping down over a table exa¬ 
 mining something through a microscope, when they 
 entered. The rustling of the silk dresses made the 
 absorbed operator raise his head, and turn towards 
 the door. No sooner did mother and daughter catch 
 a sight of his face, than they stood still as if rooted 
 to the ground, Ida with a faint cry, seeking her 
 mother’s hand. Mr. Shuffrey, on his side, evinced 
 symptoms of the greatest agitation, reddened, showed 
 the white of his eyes, and finally laid both his hands 
 on his heart. 
 
 The first to recover some self-possession was Mrs. 
 Paragreen, who began thus—“ Sm, it is not my in- 
 
206 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 tention to investigate by what means you became 
 aware of our having an appointment here, and have 
 succeeded in penetrating into this place—nor shall I 
 add to your confusion by questioning the delicacy and 
 propriety of such a proceeding. I know what love 
 is, and am disposed to be even over-lenient in love 
 matters.—All I have to say is, that since you are 
 here and I am not sorry you are, I shall take the 
 opportunity of speaking a few serious words to you.” 
 
 “ I shall only be too happy. Madam,” replied Mr. 
 Shuffrey with emotion, “ to hear anything you may 
 desire to say. But will you not take a seat V’ 
 
 “No seats, thank you. It shall be done in a 
 moment. Only answer me this question. What are 
 your intentions, sir V’ 
 
 “ My intentions. Madam!” stammered Mr. Shuffrey. 
 
 “No ambiguity, sir.—I mean, sir, what are your 
 intentions with regard to this daughter of mine— 
 Miss Paragreen, sir V’ 
 
 “ Oh, madam ! the purest, the most honourable— 
 the—could you ever doubt what they were ? Here— 
 I place at this lovely angel’s feet my heart, my name, 
 my fortune. Speak out, fair maiden. My bliss or 
 misery hangs on your words. Decide my fate, what¬ 
 ever it be, and life or death, it shall be welcome from 
 your lips.” And to give force to this intimation. 
 
CATASTEOPHE NUMBEE ONE. 
 
 207 
 
 Mr. ShufFrey bent one knee before Ida, and hid his 
 face in his hands. 
 
 “ I wish you would get up,” said Mrs. Paragreen, 
 helping the young gentleman to his feet. “ Your 
 speech is rather a flowery one, but it is the speech of 
 a gentleman. However, before we say any more about 
 bliss and misery, you can understand that it is but 
 natural in a parent to wish to know something more 
 positive about yourself and your prospects in life.” 
 
 “ It is not for me to descant on my name,” answered 
 Mr. Shuffrey, with a little bow in compliment to it. 
 “ You know. Madam, that it is not an unhonoured one. 
 As to my means, they allow me to cut a good figure 
 in the world, as you see,” looking proudly round the 
 room. “ My one-horse brougham will very soon be 
 exchanged for a britzka and pair, my practice in¬ 
 creases every day, and such is the success of my self¬ 
 masticators”— 
 
 “ Mercy on us !” cried Mrs. Paragreen, recoiling 
 in sudden horror, “ you, then, are—that—abomin¬ 
 able Mr. Shuffrey !” 
 
 “ Abominable ! Madam”— 
 
 “ Yes, abominable !—a flentist !—worse than a 
 veterinary surgeon. And you fancy that I am going 
 to throw away my daughter on a low tooth-drawing 
 apothecary like you ?” 
 
208 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 “ Madam”— 
 
 “ A Miss Paeageeeh, sir !—her mother a 
 JOLIFFE, sir !” concluded Mrs. Paragreen, drawing 
 herself up, and looking most majestic. 
 
 “ Madam,” said Mr. Shuffrey, in an agitated voice, 
 
 you can break my heart, but you cannot throw 
 disgrace on a profession of which I am proud—yes— 
 proud, and but for which”—with the look of a con¬ 
 noisseur at the angry lady’s mouth—“ and but for 
 which you would be a downright scarecrow, madam.” 
 
 “ Come away, Ida, this moment!” cried Mrs. 
 Paragreen ; “let us shake off the dust of tliis place 
 from our feet as quickly as possible.” 
 
 “ Farewell, sweet daughter of a cruel mother !” 
 went on Mr. Shuffrey, following the fugitives to the 
 door ; “ may your path in life be strewed with roses 
 —may all happiness attend you. Such is the fare¬ 
 well hope of—Jerome. See to the door.” 
 
 Here we would fain enter into a philosophical 
 disquisition as to the causes of the unjust and unjus¬ 
 tifiable prejudice which attaches to one of the most 
 in earnest, and undoubtedly one of the most bene¬ 
 ficial of the callings pursued by mankind. But this 
 would take too long, and Mr. Paragreen is waiting 
 for us, so we put off our lucubrations on the subject, 
 and hasten to rejoin our hero in his rambles. 
 
CHAPTER XVL 
 
 CATASTKOPHE NUMBER TWO. 
 
 (HOUGH rather stunned by his own daring, 
 and the unprecedented meekness of his wife 
 after the offence he had given, Mr. Para- 
 green nevertheless recollected, while going- 
 down the stairs, that the Secretary had 
 promised to call that morning at ten. 
 Wishing to be polite, it occiured to our hero that he 
 might as well call himself and ask after his new friend, 
 and that, having Emma and Arabella with him, he 
 could at the same time gratify the accomplished 
 gentleman’s wish to see them. 
 
 He therefore went and rapped at the Secretary’s 
 door, but in spite of the key being in the lock, no 
 answer was returned. Mr. Paragreen, somewhat 
 astonished, inquired on his way out, at the Bureau in 
 the Court, if His Highness’s Secretary was at home. 
 The query occasioned a good deal of embarrassment 
 
 o 
 
210 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 among the few persons present, including tlie land¬ 
 lord, who stammered forth that His Highness and 
 his Secretary had been summoned to St. Cloud. Mr. 
 Paragreen expressed a hope that their absence would 
 not be of long duration, to which the hotel-keeper 
 replied, “ He supposed not—probably but a few days.” 
 
 “ Bless my heart!” mused the little man, “ it is 
 very awkward. If we are not presented this week— 
 and this is Tuesday already—God knows when we 
 shall leave Paris, for, as to persuading Dora, especially 
 in her present humour, to go home without having 
 been to one of the Imperial receptions, I might as 
 well try to persuade this Column to cross the Channel.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen and his three children were at that 
 instant traversing the Place Vendome, and the sight 
 of the Column accounts for his forcible simile. The 
 sun was very hot, Mr. Paragreen was in no walking 
 mood, and the chesnut tre^s of the Tuileries held out 
 a promise of shade and coolness. Mr. Paragreen 
 accordingly led the way into the gardens, and having 
 hired a chair, and a French paper, sat down to read 
 the news. 
 
 His eyes were fixed on the words, but without 
 taking in their sense ; for his thoughts were busy 
 with other matters. This was the tenth day of their 
 sojourn in Paris, and each day represented a large 
 
CATASTROPHE NUMBER TWO. 
 
 211 
 
 outlay of ready cash—not an agreeable consideration 
 in itself, and rendered still less so by tlie fact of the 
 scanty return of comfort obtained for it: three stifling 
 hot rooms up in a garret, when they had at their 
 disposal a comfortable and well-sized villa, absence 
 enhancing its size and airiness : tobacco-smelling 
 cabs, and hackney coaches, not always to be had for 
 any money, sweltering crowds, and cart-loads of suffo¬ 
 cating dust, when there was in a tidy coach-house at 
 home a spick-and-span clean phaeton, and a horse 
 with a coat shining like satin, and a decent coach¬ 
 man, and quiet lanes with hedges of roses and 
 honeysuckles to drive in, or a lovely garden, and 
 thick shady shrubbery to walk in. 
 
 In short, Mr. Paragreen was home-sick, and w^ould 
 have sacriflced all the Highnesses and Courts and 
 court-dresses in the world, to be once more safely 
 housed in Eden Villa, Peckham. But there was no 
 chance of this for Heaven knew how long. Would 
 they had never met that Prince, who had brought 
 them nothing, after all, but trouble ! And to form 
 the apex of his discomfort, there was the keen appre¬ 
 hension of what might be in store for him by two 
 o’clock at the hotel. 
 
 “ Let me see,” speculated our little friend, “ whe¬ 
 ther I can’t find some way of making it up with Dora 
 
212 
 
 THE PAEAGREENS, 
 
 —some small present would do.” This was a me¬ 
 thod that had answered well more than once, and 
 one idea begetting another, the anxious husband came 
 to remember a pair of ear-rings somewhere in the Rue 
 de la Paix that Dora had much admired. By 
 jingo, ITl go and get them this instant—if they 
 are not too dear.” 
 
 Leaving Tobo, who was reading Galignani’s Mes¬ 
 senger, in charge of his sisters, hard at work skipping 
 with some other English girls, with whom they had 
 picked up an acquaintance, Mr. Paragreen went out 
 of the gardens, and turned to the right into the arcade 
 (jf the Rue Castiglione. As he walked along, his eye 
 was caught by a display of curious coins in a money¬ 
 changer’s shop window, which unluckily suggested to 
 him, that he might as well get some gold and silver 
 for his paper money. 
 
 Mr. Paragreen, as a practical man, had always 
 made a rule never to pay for small purchases with 
 notes of comparatively large value—he contended 
 that they excited the seller’s greed ; and on the con¬ 
 trary, that an offer in coin assured the buyer a good 
 bargain. However this may be, Mr. Paragreen, on 
 his road for the ear-rings, was reminded by the 
 money-changer’s shop window, that he was short of 
 change—so in he went, and tendered the first note 
 
CATASTEOPHE NUMBEE TWO. 
 
 213 
 
 that came under his hand, (by chance the smaller one 
 of the two he had received at Corazza’s,) across the 
 counter. 
 
 The money-changer examined the note, consulted a 
 memorandum-book, and then saying with an uncon¬ 
 cerned face, “ Please to sit down, I bring you the 
 money instantly,” vanished into a back-room. Mr. 
 Paragreen took a seat, and having nothing better to 
 do, amused himself with watching the various indi¬ 
 viduals who stopped to look in at the window. Now 
 it came to pass, that one of the faces, the scrutiny of 
 which formed Mr. Paragreen’s innocent pastime, bore 
 such a likeness to that of the Marquis met at Coraz¬ 
 za’s, that Mr. Paragreen could have sworn it was 
 the Marquis standing there before him, but for the 
 complete absence of every trace of beard. However, 
 he got up, and with no other intention than that of 
 warning his noble acquaintance, if indeed it were he, 
 of the mistake about the cards, he stepped nimbly 
 forward, and touching the stranger’s sleeve, said, ‘‘ I 
 beg your pardon. Sir.” 
 
 The person so addressed turned, identified the 
 speaker, and took to his heels. This action let in a 
 sudden ray of light on the understanding of the con¬ 
 founded Paragreen; he received the instantaneous 
 revelation that he had been duped, and forgetful of 
 
214 
 
 THE PAEAGKEENS, 
 
 his 500 francs, and of everything but his revenge, 
 the little man roaring out in English, “ Stop thief! 
 stop thief!” gave chase. The money-changer, who 
 from the inner room had been keeping a vigilant 
 watch, rushed out after his customer, shouting at the 
 top of his voice, “ Au voleur, au voleur !” The two 
 sergens de ville sent for by the shopkeeper, arriving 
 in the very nick of time, joined in the cry and in 
 the race. Some of the idlers, and all the gamins 
 in the street, followed to see the fun—and in less 
 time than it takes to write it, poor hatless Mr. Para- 
 green was stopped, overtaken, seized by the collar, 
 by the waistcoat, by the flaps of his coat, by every 
 part, in short, of his garments, which afforded any 
 hold to fifty grasping hands, and panting for breath, 
 but imotesting loudly he was “ Anglais, Allid !” and 
 that it was “ I’autre,” he was hurried to the nearest 
 Gommissaire de Police, the centre of a crowd of at 
 least five hundred persons, the half of them sergens 
 de ville, gendarmes, gardes de Paris, with a tambour 
 major to boot. 
 
 The evidence of the money-changer was first taken, 
 followed by that of the sergens de ville, who had 
 effected the arrest; then addressing himself to the 
 Englishman, the Commissary asked him his name, 
 quality, and the object of his journey to Paris. 
 
CATASTEOPHE NUMBER TWO. 
 
 215 
 
 (Useless to say that the Commissary spoke English, 
 as every one did more or less during that time.) 
 Mr. Paragreen gave his name, said he was a retired 
 merchant, and that he had come to Paris to see the 
 Exhibition. This answer made the Commissary look 
 grim, as if he began to smell a rat. The fact was, 
 that since the opening of the Palace of Industry, this 
 French functionary had not had a moment’s peace, 
 having for the last three months done nothing but 
 read, write, converse, think and dream of rogues of 
 all sorts, of all nations, who had taken advantage of 
 the Exhibition to make Paris their head-quarters. 
 This had given him a sort of horror, not only of the 
 great national undertaking, but of everybody, and 
 everything connected with it. 
 
 “ Where do you live T inquired the Commissary. 
 
 “ At the Hotel de rUnicorne.” 
 
 “ Very good,” said the questioner, smelling the 
 rat more than ever. “ Do you know anybody in 
 Paris h Can you give any references T 
 
 “ I have the honour to be known to His Highness 
 the Prince of—something, somewhere,” replied Mr. 
 Paragreen, drawing himself up haughtily. 
 
 “ Better still—excellent,” said the Commissary, 
 rubbing his hands and hardly able to repress a laugh. 
 “ Please to explain how you obtained possession 
 
216 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 of—By the bye, have you any more billets de 
 banque T 
 
 “ Yes, I have another,” answered Mr. Paragreen, 
 holding out the note for a thousand francs. 
 
 The functionary handed it to the money-changer, 
 who, after examining it, pronounced that it was one 
 of the same stolen batch, and was stopped of course. 
 
 “ Now, tell me how you came to be in possession 
 of these two French notes.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen related at length how he had re¬ 
 ceived them from a gentleman whom he had met at 
 Corazza’s Cafd 
 
 ‘‘ So that,” resumed the magistrate, “ when you 
 presented this note to be changed you had not the 
 least idea it was a stolen one ?” 
 
 “ Not the very least,” affirmed Mr. Paragreen. 
 
 “ What made you take to flight then ?” said the 
 Commissary. 
 
 “ I did not take to flight. I saw the man who 
 had cheated me looking in at the shop window, and 
 I ran after him.” 
 
 “You then knew that the notes had been stolen, 
 since you say that the man had cheated you,” urged 
 the Commissary. 
 
 “ I only guessed he had when I saw him take to 
 his heels on confronting me,” said Mr. Paragreen. 
 
CATASTROPHE NUMBER TWO. 
 
 217 
 
 “ According to your own account,” pursued the 
 functionary, “ you exchanged bank-notes to the value 
 of sixty pounds with an utter stranger, whose name 
 you did not even know at the time—a very likely 
 proceeding in a man of mature age, and who pro¬ 
 fesses to have been a man of business. I would 
 advise you to alter your system of defence, and tell 
 the truth.” 
 
 “ There isn’t a tittle to change in what I have 
 told you,” said Mr. Paragreen, stoutly. “ If you 
 don’t believe me, send for my wife and children, they 
 can swear to the truth of every word I have spoken.” 
 
 “ That will not do, my friend,” said the Commis¬ 
 sary, with a cunning shake of the head ; “ prudent 
 rogues have been known before this to prepare and 
 agree upon a story with their wives and children in 
 the event of a mishap.” 
 
 “ Rogues may have done so. I am not acquainted 
 with rogues’ ways,” retorted Mr. Paragreen scornfully. 
 
 “ Once more,” said the Commissary, sternly, “ I 
 warn you for your good against the course you are 
 pursuing—you deceive nobody. Such extraordinary 
 coincidences as you relate, the very man who gave 
 you the notes looking in at the shop window where 
 you are changing them, and so on—such things, I 
 say, may be found in books, but not in real life. We 
 
218 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 see through it all. It was not a thief you were run¬ 
 ning after, but an accomplice—the look-out, who 
 warned you of the approach of the sergens de ville. 
 The trick is stale, and we are not Commissary of 
 Police for nothing.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen rebutted the imputation with dis¬ 
 dain. 
 
 “ Sir,” resumed the Magistrate, slowly and im¬ 
 pressively, for he was really a kind-hearted gentle¬ 
 man, “ I am inclined to deal leniently with you, but 
 you must help me. For the last time, I beg of you 
 to renounce all subterfuge, and tell me plainly and 
 truly how and from whom you got those bank-notes.” 
 
 Mr. Paragreen repeated angrily that he had already 
 told the truth, and the whole truth. 
 
 u Very well, then, since you will have it so, take 
 the consequences,” said the Commissary; and turning 
 to the police-officers present, “ Au depot de la Pre¬ 
 fecture de Police.” 
 
CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 MKS. PARAGREEN TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 RS. Paragreen was practising how to 
 walk in a manteau de cour, represented 
 for the time being by a series of towels 
 pinned together, and dragging on the 
 ground behind her, when Tobo and his 
 little sisters came in with the intelligence 
 that their father had left them in the gardens of the 
 Tuileries and never returned. 
 
 “ Your father will break my heart some day,” said 
 Mrs. Paragreen, unpinning her train, “ I know he 
 will j” and she went straight to the faded yellow sofa, 
 and sat down with the look of a judge, who only 
 waits for the presence of the culprit to pass some 
 awful sentence. 
 
 After a good half-hour of this suspense, a sound of 
 knuckles against the door broke the silence. “ Come 
 in !” cried Mrs. Paragreen in her sharpest tones. 
 
220 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 “ Commissionnaire!” said one of that body, opening 
 the door. 
 
 “ Begone!” shouted the lady on hearing the abo¬ 
 minated name, “ begone!” 
 
 “ Une lettre pour Madame Barabry—” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen got up, and no one can say to 
 what extremities she might not have proceeded, had 
 not her quick eyes discovered in time, that the ad¬ 
 dress of the letter the Commissionnaire held towards 
 her, was in her husband’s well-known writing. Mak¬ 
 ing a snatch at it, she pushed the man out of the 
 door with such a countenance as made him forget 
 to ask for a pourboire, then breaking the seal with 
 fingers that trembled, Mrs. Paragreen read as fol¬ 
 lows :—- 
 
 Depot cle la Prefecture de Police. 
 
 “ My dearest Dora, —Will you credit your own 
 eyes, my dear, when you see that your unfortunate 
 Sylvester is writing to you from a prison 1 ” 
 
 “ A prison !” gasped forth Mrs. Paragreen, “Syl¬ 
 vester in a prison ! oh ! the wretches ! ” 
 
 “ Papa in prison !” chorused the children, and, with 
 the exception of Tobo, they all began to cry. 
 
 “ Hush!” thundered Mrs. Paragreen, “I won’t have 
 any blubbering, do you hear ? ” and she went on read- 
 
MRS, PARAGREEN TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 221 
 
 “ Depot, they call it, the French for deposit—a 
 very dirty one any way, and such faces round me !— 
 to think that the father of a family—But to the point. 
 The bank-notes were stolen after all, and are stopped, 
 and that Marquis is a swindler. The Commissary 
 would not listen to reason, and so here I am, God 
 knows for how long, perhaps for ever,—if you don’t 
 manage to get me out—as I am sure you will, some 
 how or other. Only once make up your mind that 
 out I must come, and out I shall come. But be 
 quick about it, my dear—to-morrow will be too late; 
 for if I am to spend the night in such company, I 
 feel that I am jlambed^ as that Count General said. 
 So pray, make haste, if you wish, as I hope you do, 
 to live the wife and not the widow of your miserable 
 but loving husband, Sylvester Paragreen. 
 
 “ P.S .—By the by, I forgot—who do you think I 
 found here ?—why His Highness and his Secretary 
 —both victims, they say, of Russian Machiavelism, 
 which got at them even in Paris. I don’t wonder at 
 it, seeing that I myself—but I must stop—unless 
 they are swindlers also, like that confounded Marquis, 
 I mean the Corazza one, and not the other—God bless 
 him for a true nobleman as he is! How- could you mis¬ 
 take him for a—never mind—yours in haste. S. P. 
 
 “ P.S. —The bearer is paid, remember.” 
 
222 
 
 THE PAEAGEEENS. 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen, without uttering a single word, 
 put on her Broad Brim, in the same silence tied on 
 those of Emma and Arabella, motioned to Ida and 
 Tobo to follow her, and went off like a shot to the 
 British Embassy. “ Qui demandez vous *?” asked the 
 Concierge running after them. 
 
 “ Sang Excellengs,” said Mrs. Paragreen. 
 
 “ Son Excellence est h Saint Cloud.” 
 
 “ Beicks and Moetae !” shouted the lady, fixing 
 on the man’s face a pair of eyes that might have in¬ 
 timidated three-headed Cerberus himself. 
 
 “ Voyez plutot a la Chancellerie,” said the Con¬ 
 cierge, with a politeness quite supernatural in so high 
 a functionary,, and pointing to a doorway on the 
 right of the lodge. Mrs. Paragreen passed through 
 it, threaded a dark passage, and as if thoroughly 
 at home, turned the handle of the first door she 
 came to. 
 
 “ What do you want inquired in a rather gruff 
 voice, and frowning at the intruder, a middle-aged 
 gentleman, who, happening to be “ dressed in a little 
 brief authority” by the temporary absence of his 
 superior, the Consul, was determined to make the 
 most of it. 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen made her children come in one by 
 one, then said, “ What do I want ? vastly polite of 
 
MES. PARAGREEN TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 223 
 
 you to ask me in that way—I want back my hus¬ 
 band, Sir.” 
 
 “ Your husband exclaimed the official. 
 
 “Yes, Sir, my husband, who has been cheated out 
 of his money, and then put into prison by those 
 blackguards of the French police.” 
 
 “ Madam, I beg of you to respect—” 
 
 “ Fiddle, faddle—Jeuse take them ! I want to 
 have my husband back. I come here to have him 
 back, and you must get him back for me, you 
 must.” 
 
 The official thus appealed to, perceived at a glance 
 that playing the authoritative would not do with his 
 present customer, and therefore begged Mrs. Para- 
 green to explain herself, which she did not over 
 clearly, closing her tale by shewing the letter she 
 had received from her husband. 
 
 The Consul’s representative read the letter through, 
 then observed with much gravity, “ I am very sorry, 
 Madam, but at this stage of the affair I do not feel 
 justified in interfering.” 
 
 “ Don’t feel justified in interfering!” repeated 
 Mrs. Paragreen, with the burst of a bombshell, and 
 sticking her arms a-kimbo. “ Have you no husband 
 —wife, I mean—no children, no feeling, no heart, 
 that you tell me in that cool way, you don’t feel 
 
224 
 
 THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 justified in interfering ? Does the country pay you 
 to trim your nails, while English wives are robbed of 
 their husbands 1” 
 
 “ Pray,” said the gentleman, “ don’t be violent”— 
 
 “ Don’t be violent ! I will be violent. Sir ; I’ll go 
 into the street and make a row ; I’ll call upon all the 
 English in Paris to come, and help me to burn down 
 that vile depot of police, I will”—- 
 
 The cataract stopped of its own accord. Mrs. 
 Paragreen lifted up her right hand as if to entreat 
 silence, that she might listen to voices on the other 
 side of the partition. In another instant she had 
 made her exit on tiptoe, gone to the door of the next 
 room, flung it open, and made a rush at one of the 
 two gentlemen there, crying out, “ Here’s the two¬ 
 penny Marquis, who robbed my husband and sent 
 him to prison ; here’s the swindler who stole the bank¬ 
 notes—I give him in charge.—Send for the police, I 
 say.” 
 
 “ The woman is mad—I never saw her before in 
 my life,” cried the Corazza grandee, trying in vain 
 to disengage himself from Mrs. Paragreen’s iron 
 grasp. 
 
 “ Ah ! you never saw me before, didn’t you ?— 
 and you never saw these innocent creatures you have 
 robbed of their father, eh !—speak out Ida, Tobo, 
 
MES. PARAGREEN TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 225 
 
 Emma, and Arabella—did you ever see this fine 
 gentleman before ?” 
 
 Ida, Tobo, Emma, and Arabella shouted out that 
 the person was the one they had met at Corazza’s, 
 wlio called himself a Marquis, and with whom their 
 father had exchanged some bank-notes. 
 
 “Do you hear them ?” said Mrs. Paragreen, ad¬ 
 dressing herself to ofiicials ISTo. 1 and 'No. 2, (the one 
 of the brief authority, and the other they had found 
 conversing with the false Marquis;) “do you hear 
 what these innocent creatures say, and can you doubt 
 their veracity ? Send for the police, I say—have 
 him searched, and I’ll be bound you’ll find more of 
 the stolen bank-notes somewhere about him.” 
 
 Both officials looked very puzzled. 
 
 “ To confound this fury,” said the man, with a 
 great show of offended dignity, “ I have no objection 
 to my pocket-book being examined—will you allow 
 me to pull it out ?” 
 
 “ Certainly,” said Mrs. Paragreen ; “ Tobo, and you 
 Ida, stand at the door. I’ll look after this open win¬ 
 dow myself.” 
 
 As soon as he was released, the accused took out 
 his pocket-book, but in doing so, something fell out 
 of his pocket, and rolled on the ground ; a something 
 else, that in all likelihood he did not intend to show, 
 
 p 
 
226 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 as he made a dash to recover it. But Mrs. Para- 
 green was beforehand with him; quick as lightning 
 she picked up a paper crushed and crumpled almost 
 into a ball. 
 
 ‘‘ There, take it,” said she, handing it to official 
 No. 1 j “ I’ll lay you any wager it’s some new proof 
 of roguery.” 
 
 Official No. 1, after unfolding and smoothing out 
 the paper, looked at its contents, and exclaimed in 
 surprise—“Why, it is an English passport that I 
 signed myself not an hour ago !” 
 
 Official No. 2 examined the paper, and exclaimed 
 in his turn—“ Dear me ! only five minutes ago it 
 was here with these other passports—this person 
 must be a conjurer, and conjured it off my table into 
 his pocket.” 
 
 “Not intentionally, I protest”— 
 
 “ Reserve your explanations, if you have any, for 
 another place,” interrupted official No. 1, ringing the 
 bell, “ the theft is fiagrant.” 
 
 There was not much room for doubt, to be sure. 
 The soi-disant Marquis having cogent reasons, as may 
 be inferred, for desiring a creditable passport, had 
 hit on a scheme to procure one that betrayed a cer¬ 
 tain fertility of invention, coupled with a thorough 
 knowledge of the ways of the British Consulate. 
 
MRS. PARAGREEN TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 227 
 
 He called on the employ^ who has charge of and 
 distributes the passports left to be vis^d, and while 
 parading a cane of Manattee hide, for which he wished 
 the Ambassador’s patronage, he pocketed a gentle¬ 
 man’s passport, and would have succeeded in carrying 
 it off but for our heroine’s quick ears. 
 
 The servant who answered the bell was ordered 
 to fetch a policeman immediately—an affair of five 
 minutes,—and official No. 1, after giving the sub¬ 
 tracter of passports in charge, left the office, pro¬ 
 bably to ask for instructions from some of his supe¬ 
 riors, for he said, on returning to Mrs. Paragreen, 
 “ Now, Madam, if you please, I am ready to accom¬ 
 pany you to the Prefecture of Police, to see what can 
 be done to get Mr. Paragreen out of this scrape.” 
 
 Mrs. Paragreen was naturally all impatience to be 
 gone ; accordingly, three coaches were sent for, in 
 which all the actors in the preceding scene, official 
 No. 2 excepted, took their seats,—the swindler and 
 police officers, of course, in one by themselves. 
 
 As they drove along, the Consul’s representative 
 begged Mrs. Paragreen to give him a detailed and 
 more connected account of her husband’s dealings 
 with the pretended Marquis, in the course of which 
 she naturally mentioned the visiting card and invi¬ 
 tation to dinner, and the awkward situation in which 
 
228 
 
 THE PARAGEEENS. 
 
 they had found themselves with the real Marquis de 
 la Motte d’Or. This circumstance struck the official 
 as one that might be turned to use, and he remarked, 
 that he had no doubt, if the ' attendance of the 
 Marquis could be procured, Mr. Paragreen’s character 
 would be instantly cleared. 
 
 At Mrs. Paragreen’s suggestion, Tobo was trans¬ 
 ferred to the first empty cab they met, and despatched 
 to No. 43, Kue Las Cases, charged by his mother to 
 do all he could to induce the Marquis to accompany 
 him to the Prefectime—a most agreeable commission 
 to Tobo, who felt that at last he was being treated 
 as if he were a man. 
 
 The reader guesses the rest. The gentleman from 
 the English Embassy had scarcely finished stating 
 the case to the Prefect, and declaring his own strong 
 conviction of Mr. Paragreen’s innocence, when the 
 Marquis de la Motte d’Or came in with Tobo, and 
 confirmed the truth of Mrs. Paragreen’s story, adding, 
 that, as far as he could judge, Mr. Paragreen was the 
 last man in the world to take anybody in. The Pre¬ 
 fect immediately wrote an order for Mr. Paragreen’s 
 release, and courteously handing it to Mrs. Paragreen, 
 desired some of the officers of the court to proceed to 
 the depot with the lady ; and in a very few minutes 
 husband and wife were in each other’s arms. 
 
MRS. PARAGREEN TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 229 
 
 “ There, old boy !” cried Dora, flourishing the 
 Prefect’s order. 
 
 “ Hurrah !” shouted Sylvester, “ I was sure you 
 would get me out. Bless your brave heart!” 
 
 And then, for the first time since the ^ad intelli¬ 
 gence of her husband’s imprisonment, Mrs. Paragreen 
 gave way, and began to cry like a very woman. 
 “ Never mind,” sobbed she, “ it is—for—-joy !” 
 
 The parting with the Marquis took place amid a 
 general discharge of tears and smiles, and never were 
 warmer or sincerer thanks given than those offered 
 to him by the Paragreen family. 
 
 “ And now,” said Mrs. Paragreen, as she was 
 getting into a coach, “ to the Hotel to pack, and en 
 route.” 
 
 “ That is a blessed word,” cried Mr. Paragreen, 
 “ en route. Hurrah for home !” 
 
 The first thing done on reaching the hotel was 
 to ask for the bill and settle it, then all, little ones 
 included, set to work packing. While thus busied, 
 what should arrive but the uniform and the manteau 
 de cour ! They were paid for, and packed with the 
 rest, Mr. Paragreen observing, as he helped to push 
 them into one of the trunks— 
 
 “ After all, Dora, dear, uniforms, and manteaux, 
 and drawing-rooms, and all that, I have no doubt. 
 
230 
 
 THE PARAGREENS. 
 
 are very good things in their way, but home^ and 
 comfort^ and love, are better still.” 
 
 “ Why, Sylvester, if the truth must be told, the 
 same thought came into my head when I saw you 
 again, after the horrid fright I was in that I had 
 lost you.” 
 
 By the eight o’clock train of the same evening the 
 Paragreen family left Paris, and on the morrow, at 
 mid-day, were quietly installed at Eden Villa, Peck- 
 ham, where we leave them, wishing them and the 
 reader 
 
 EDINBUEGH ; T. CONSTABLE, PRINTEE TO HEE MAJESTY. 
 
By the same Author, 
 
 DOCTOR ANTONIO: A TALE. 
 
 Fifth Thousand. 
 
 Cheap Edition, Crown 8vo, Boards, Price 2s. 6d. 
 Also, Libraey Edition, Crown Qvo, Cloth, Price 4s. 
 
 Opinions of the Press. 
 
 “ As a tale avowedly fictitious, it is, we think, preferable to ‘Lo¬ 
 renzo Benoniit has the same gentleness and purity of tone, the 
 same sustained but unforced devotion of feeling, the same elegance of 
 style and correctness of language, (wonderful in a foreigner,) and in 
 its principal character, the same attractive compound of the gentle¬ 
 man, the Christian, the poet, and the patriot.”— North British B,eview. 
 
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 Lucy is one of the most charming impersonations of an English girl 
 we have met with in the course of many novels.”— Athenoeum. 
 
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 surpass this Author.”— Literary Gazette. 
 
 “ If it were purely for the great grace and simplicity of the style, 
 
 ‘ Dr. Antonio’ is a production which deserves to he studied. Few 
 Englishmen write so well and with such a rare blending of pathos and 
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 and that the sentiments of the Author on some of the most important 
 of all subjects are admirable and profound.”— Daily News. 
 
 “No man has sung the wrongs of Italy with more pathos and feel¬ 
 ing, more moderation and good sense, or in more melodious and clas¬ 
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 character, descriptions of natural scenery, and in pleasant variety of 
 dialogue, our author excels, and ‘ Doctor Antonio ’ furnishes many 
 examples of such excellence.”— Morning Post. 
 
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 gentlest to the sternest, which human hearts can feel, to their pro- 
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 gentle natures in their love and their sorrow, or fierce indignation at 
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 animated and natural, and of a character to please readers of all 
 tastes.”— The Press. 
 
 “ It has all the merits of the author’s former work, the same inter¬ 
 est as a story, the same grace and beauty of style, the same value as 
 a truthful picture of Italian life, and record of recent Italian history.” 
 — Witness. 
 
 “ The Italian Doctor may take his place in the gallery of the admir¬ 
 able characters of contemporary fiction. . . . One of the most genu¬ 
 inely successful fictions we have read for a long time past.”— Leader. 
 
 “ Under the form of elegant fiction, the Author lays bare the mise¬ 
 ries which are grinding Southern Italy into degradation ; and without 
 calling upon Great Britain to come to its help, inspires his readers 
 who value civil and religious liberty, with the ardent desire to do 
 something immediately and effectually to release one of the brightest 
 spots of the earth from the degradation under which it now lies.”— 
 BelVs WeeMy Messenger. 
 
LORENZO BENONI; 
 
 OE, 
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF AN ITALIAN. 
 
 Seventh Thousand. 
 
 Cheap Edition, Crovm Qvo, Boards, Price 2s. 6c?. 
 Library Edition, 8^J0, Cloth Extra, Price 10s. 6c?. 
 
 Opinions of the Press. 
 
 “ On the score of style alone, this volume is a remarkable curio¬ 
 sity.”— Quarterly Review. 
 
 “ Lorenzo Benoni, in literary merit, as in other respects, is a very 
 remarkable production, and, if the unaided work of a foreigner, is un¬ 
 rivalled for easy elegance and idiomatic accuracy of style.”— Edin- 
 hurgh Review. 
 
 “ Under the modest guise of the biography of an imaginary Lorenzo 
 Benoni, we have here, in fact, the memoir of a man whose name could 
 not he pronounced in certain parts of Northern Italy without calling 
 up tragic yet noble historical recollections. ... Its merits, simply as 
 a work of literary art, are of a very high order. The style is really 
 beautiful—easy, sprightly, graceful, and full of the happiest and most 
 ingenious turns of phrase and of fancy .”—North British Review. 
 
 “ We can without hesitation pronounce this elegant volume as 
 the fit clothing of a work of rare, unquestionable literary merit and 
 interest. ... It is very seldom one meets with a volume to he so cor¬ 
 dially recommended to the perusal of old and young. Wise, virtuous, 
 noble, cultivated, refined, matured by sorrows, is the mind which gave 
 it birth. Let it go forth to amuse, to teach, to warn, to encourage, 
 to comfort; in all ways to do good .”—Eclectic Review. 
 
 “ This volume is written in capital style, rarely smacking of fo¬ 
 reign idioms, contains abundance of interesting and useful matter, 
 and may he read with pleasure from beginning to end .”—TaiVs 
 Magazine. 
 
 “ The Author’s great forte is character-painting. This portraiture 
 is accomplished with remarkable skill, the traits, both individual and 
 national, being marked with great nicety, without ohtrusiveness.”— 
 Spectator. 
 
LORENZO BENONI-Continued. 
 
 “ The story presents incidentally many subjects of varied interest. 
 . . . The last part of the narrative is full of stirring adventures told 
 in effective style.”— Literary Gazette. 
 
 “Few works of the season will be read with greater pleasure than 
 this. There is a great charm in the quiet, natural way in which the 
 story is told.”— Atlas. 
 
 “As lively in its tone as Gil Bias, and full of those descriptions of 
 contemporary manners among foreigners—those narratives of foreign 
 contemporary events and sketches of foreign contemporary character, 
 that must always command the highest Standard. 
 
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 Cabin,’ inasmuch as it develops the existence of a state of slavery and 
 degradation worse even than that which Mrs. Beecher Stowe has 
 elucidated with so much pathos and feeling.”— Bell's Weekly Mes¬ 
 senger. 
 
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 a fertile country, and is not the less gravely impressive for the grace 
 and beauty of its coverings. ... At the same time the most deter¬ 
 mined novel reader could desire no work more fascinating over which 
 to forget the flight of time. ... No sketch of foreign oppression has 
 ever, we believe, been submitted to the English public by a foreigner, 
 equal or nearly equal to this volume in literary merit. It is not un¬ 
 worthy to be ranked among contemporary works whose season is the 
 century in which their authors live.”— Examiner. 
 
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 lerance and priestly tyranny in Italy, as few even of our well-informed 
 readers will anticipate. ... It only requires to be generally read to 
 rouse one universal feeling in favour of Italian liberty, and we trust 
 that it will find its way into every public library ; for to use the words 
 of a contemporary Reviewer—‘ it develops the existence of a state of 
 slavery and degradation, worse even than that which Mrs. Beecher 
 Stowe has elucidated with so much pathos ,and feeling.’”— York 
 Herald. 
 
 “ The merits of the book, even regarded in the simple light as a 
 work of literary art, are of the highest order, and cannot fail to com¬ 
 mand the attention of the world of letters.”— Liverpool Albion. 
 
 “ Lorenzo Benoni is a pleasant book, with the broad stamp of real 
 life about it,—interesting and intelligent.”— Manchester Examiner 
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