ertainment and propounded so many curious problems to his
inquiring and practical mind. Newman was fond of statistics; he liked
to know how things were done; it gratified him to learn what taxes were
paid, what profits were gathered, what commercial habits prevailed, how
the battle of life was fought. M. Nioche, as a reduced capitalist, was
familiar with these considerations, and he formulated his information,
which he was proud to be able to impart, in the neatest possible
terms and with a pinch of snuff between finger and thumb. As a
Frenchman--quite apart from Newman's napoleons--M. Nioche loved
conversation, and even in his decay his urbanity had not grown rusty. As
a Frenchman, too, he could give a clear account of things, and--still as
a Frenchman--when his knowledge was at fault he could supply its lapses
with the most convenient and ingenious hypotheses. The little shrunken
financier was intensely delighted to have questions asked him, and he
scraped together information, by frugal processes, and took notes, in
his little greasy pocket-book, of incidents which might interest his
munificent friend. He read old almanacs at the book-stalls on the quays,
and he began to frequent another cafe, where more newspapers were taken
and his postprandial demitasse cost him a penny extra, and where he used
to con the tattered sheets for curious anecdotes, freaks of nature, and
strange coincidences. He would relate with solemnity the next morning
that a child of five years of age had lately died at Bordeaux, whose
brain had been found to weigh sixty ounces--the brain of a Napoleon or
a Washington! or that Madame P--, charcutiere in the Rue de Clichy, had
found in the wadding of an old petticoat the sum of three hundred and
sixty francs, which she had lost five years before. He pronounced his
words with great distinctness and sonority, and Newman assured him
that his way of dealing with the French tongue was very superior to the
bewildering chatter that he heard in other mouths. Upon this M. Nioche's
accent became more finely trenchant than ever, he offered to read
extracts from Lamartine, and he protested that, although he did endeavor
according to his feeble lights to cultivate refinement of diction,
monsieur, if he wanted the real thing, should go to the Theatre
Francais.

Newman took an interest in French thriftiness and conceived a lively
admiration for Parisian economies. His own economic genius was so
entirely for operat