the only function for which he had been created. One would have
thought that in his mind he established a relationship and a kind
of affinity between the two great passions that occupied all his
life: Pale Ale and Revolution; and certainly he could not taste
the former without dreaming of the latter.

Mr. and Mrs. Follenvie were dining at the other end of the table,
the man, rattling like a broken down locomotive, was too short
winded to talk while eating; but the woman never kept silent. She
told all her impressions on the arrival of the Prussians, what they
did, what they said, execrating them first because they cost them
money, and then because she had two sons in the Army. She spoke
especially to the Countess, flattered at the opportunity of talking
with a lady of quality.

Then she lowered her voice to broach delicate subjects, and
her husband interrupted her now and then:--"You better hold your
tongue, Madame Follenvie!"--But she did not pay any attention to
his admonitions, and continued,

--"Yes, Madame, these people do nothing but eat potatoes and pork,
and again pork and potatoes. And you must not think that they are
clean. Oh, No, indeed not!--They soil and dirty everything, permit
me the expression. And if you saw them drill for hours and days!
they are all there, in a field, and march forward and march backward,
and turn this way and turn that way. If at least they cultivated
the land, or worked on the roads, in their country!--But no,
Madame, these soldiers are good for nothing; what a pity that the
poor people should toil and feed them and they should learn nothing
but how to massacre!--I am only an uneducated old woman, it is true,