There were really two men inside the skin of Tartarin. The one Tartarin
said to him, "Cover yourself with glory." The other said to him, "Cover
yourself with flannel." The one, imagining himself fighting Red Indians,
would call for "An axe! An axe! Somebody give me an axe!" The other,
knowing that he was cosy by his fireside, would ring the bell and say,
"Jane, my coffee."

One evening at Costecalde's, the gunsmith's, when Tartarin was
explaining some mechanism of a rifle, the door was opened and an excited
voice announced, "A lion! A lion!" The news seemed incredible, but you
can imagine the terror that seized the little group at the gunsmith's as
they asked for more news. It appeared that the lion was to be seen in a
travelling menagerie newly arrived from Beaucaire.

A lion at last, and here in Tarascon! Suddenly, when the full truth had
dawned upon Tartarin, he shouldered his gun, and, turning to Major
Bravida, "Let us go to see him!" he thundered. Following him went the
cap-hunters. Arrived at the menagerie, where many Tarasconians were
already wandering from cage to cage, Tartarin entered with his gun over
his shoulder to make inquiries about the king of beasts. His entrance
was rather a wet blanket on the other visitors, who, seeing their hero
thus armed, thought there might be danger, and were about to flee. But
the proud bearing of the great man reassured them, and Tartarin
continued his round of the booth until he faced the lion from the Atlas
Mountains.

Here he stood carefully studying the creature, who sniffed and growled
in surly temper, and then, rising, shook his mane and gave vent to a
terrible, roar, directed full at Tartarin.