"Pardon me. You take Locataires?" says the gentleman.

My dear fully believing he was offering me something with his obliging
foreign manners,--snuff for anything I knew,--I gave a little bend of my
head and I says if you'll credit it, "No I thank you. I have not
contracted the habit."

The gentleman looks perplexed and says "Lodgers!"

"Oh!" says I laughing. "Bless the man! Why yes to be sure!"

"May it not be a former lodger?" says the gentleman. "Some lodger that
you pardoned some rrwent? You have pardoned lodgers some rrwent?"

"Hem! It has happened sir" says I, "but I assure you I can call to mind
no gentleman of that description that this is at all likely to be."

In short my dear, we could make nothing of it, and the gentleman noted
down what I said and went away. But he left me the paper of which he had
two with him, and when the Major came in I says to the Major as I put it
in his hand "Major here's Old Moore's Almanac with the hieroglyphic
complete, for your opinion."

It took the Major a little longer to read than I should have thought,
judging from the copious flow with which he seemed to be gifted when
attacking the organ-men, but at last he got through it, and stood a
gazing at me in amazement.

"Major" I says "you're paralysed."