pigeons, a fife (played by the nephew in a ravishing manner), several
domestics and supernumeraries, a perpetual flavour of coffee and soup, a
terrific range of artificial rocks and wooden precipices at least four
feet high, a small fountain, and half-a-dozen large sunflowers.

Now the Englishman, in taking his Appartement,--or, as one might say on
our side of the Channel, his set of chambers,--had given his name,
correct to the letter, LANGLEY. But as he had a British way of not
opening his mouth very wide on foreign soil, except at meals, the Brewery
had been able to make nothing of it but L'Anglais. So Mr. The Englishman
he had become and he remained.

"Never saw such a people!" muttered Mr. The Englishman, as he now looked
out of window. "Never did, in my life!"

This was true enough, for he had never before been out of his own
country,--a right little island, a tight little island, a bright little
island, a show-fight little island, and full of merit of all sorts; but
not the whole round world.

"These chaps," said Mr. The Englishman to himself, as his eye rolled over
the Place, sprinkled with military here and there, "are no more like
soldiers--" Nothing being sufficiently strong for the end of his
sentence, he left it unended.

This again (from the point of view of his experience) was strictly
correct; for though there was a great agglomeration of soldiers in the
town and neighbouring country, you might have held a grand Review and
Field-day of them every one, and looked in vain among them all for a
soldier choking behind his foolish stock, or a soldier lamed by his ill-