handed round, on the young
man who had been put out of countenance, 'that if you, Monsieur, would
give him the opportunity, he would hasten with great ardour to fulfil
his duty.'

The artist traveller laughed. The insinuating traveller (who evinced
a provident anxiety to get his full share of the supper), wiping some
drops of wine from his moustache with a piece of bread, joined the
conversation.

'It is becoming late in the year, my Father,' said he, 'for
tourist-travellers, is it not?'

'Yes, it is late. Yet two or three weeks, at most, and we shall be left
to the winter snows.' 'And then,' said the insinuating traveller, 'for
the scratching dogs and the buried children, according to the pictures!'

'Pardon,' said the host, not quite understanding the allusion. 'How,
then the scratching dogs and the buried children according to the
pictures?'

The artist traveller struck in again before an answer could be given.

'Don't you know,' he coldly inquired across the table of his companion,
'that none but smugglers come this way in the winter or can have any
possible business this way?'

'Holy blue! No; never heard of it.'

'So it is, I believe. And as they know the signs of the weather
tolerably well, they don't give much employment to the dogs--who have
consequently died out rather--though this house of entertainment is
conveniently situated for themselves. Their young families, I am told,
they usually leave at home. But it's a grand idea!' cried the artist
traveller, unexpectedly rising into a tone of enthusiasm. 'It's a
sublime idea. It's the finest idea in the world, and brings tears into
a man's eyes, by Jupiter!' He then went on eating his veal with great
composure.

There was enough of mocking inconsistency at the bottom of this speech
to make it rather discordant, though the manner was refined and the
person well-favoured, and though the depreciatory part of it was so
skilfully thrown off as to be very difficult for one not perfectly
acquainted with the English language to understand, or, even
understanding, to take offence at: so simple and dispassionate was its
tone. After finishing his veal in the midst of silence, the speaker
again addressed his friend.

'Look,' said he, in his former tone, 'at this gentleman our host, not
yet in the prime of life, who in so graceful a way and with such courtly
urbanity and modesty presides over us! Manners fit for a crown! Dine
with the Lord Mayor of London (if y