selfsame comedy is played in haberdashers' shops over a barege at two
francs or a printed muslin at four francs the yard.

And you, princess, or simple citizen's wife, whichever you may be, how
should you distrust that good-looking, very young man, with those
frank, innocent eyes, and a cheek like a peach covered with down? He
is dressed almost as well as your--cousin, let us say. His tones are
soft as the woolen stuffs which he spreads before you. There are three
or four more of his like. One has dark eyes, a decided expression, and
an imperial manner of saying, "This is what you wish"; another, that
blue-eyed youth, diffident of manner and meek of speech, prompts the
remark, "Poor boy! he was not born for business"; a third, with light
auburn hair, and laughing tawny eyes, has all the lively humor, and
activity, and gaiety of the South; while the fourth, he of the tawny
red hair and fan-shaped beard, is rough as a communist, with his
portentous cravat, his sternness, his dignity, and curt speech.

These varieties of shopmen, corresponding to the principal types of
feminine customers, are arms, as it were, directed by the head, a
stout personage with a full-blown countenance, a partially bald
forehead, and a chest measure befitting a Ministerialist deputy.
Occasionally this person wears the ribbon of the Legion of Honor in
recognition of the manner in which he supports the dignity of the
French drapers' wand. From the comfortable curves of his figure you
can see that he has a wife and family, a country house, and an account
with the Bank of France. He descends like a _deus ex machina_, whenever
a tangled problem demands a swift solution. The feminine purchasers
are surrounded on all sides with urbanity, youth, pleasant manners,
smiles, and jests; the most seeming-simple human products of
civilization are here, all sorted in shades to suit all tastes.