assisted me in colors once, I should be most glad to have him do so
again. What a time we had, to be sure, talking of colors, and cloths,
and gaiters, and buttons, and knee-breeches, and waistcoats, and
plush, and coats, and lace, and hatbands, and gloves, and cravats, and
cords, and tassels, and hats. Oh! it was delightful. You can't fancy
how heartily the Rev. Cream entered into the matter. He was quite
enthusiastic, and at last he said, with so much expression, "Dear
Mrs. Potiphar, why not have a _chasseur?_"

I thought it was some kind of French dish for lunch, so I said:

"I am so sorry, but we haven't any in the house."

"Oh," said he, "but you could hire one, you know."

Then I thought it must be a musical instrument--a Panharmonicon, or
something of that kind, so I said in a general way--

"I am not very, very fond of it."

"But it would be so fine to have him standing on the back of the
carriage, his plumes waving in the wind, and his lace and polished
belts flashing in the sun, as you whirled down Broadway."

Of course I knew then that he was speaking of those military gentlemen
who ride behind carriages, especially upon the Continent, as Margaret
tells me, and who in Paris are very useful to keep the savages and
wild beasts at bay in the _Champ Elysees_, for you know they are
intended as a guard.