eption to this,
theory: the two hundred and thirty double-columned pages of M. Larcher's
_Dictionnaire historique, etymologique et anecdotique de l'argot
parisien_ tell us that the two grand sources and inspirations of our
American slang are entirely wanting: there is not a humorous word or
phrase from beginning to end; and hardly an instance of that incongruous
exaggeration which is so salient a picture of our best-known and most
original slang phrases. But, on the other hand, there is satire keen and
fine on every page, a reckless, devil-may-care gayety, and throughout
that mocking spirit which is so essentially French, making game alike of
its own pain and that of others, and jeering always at the sight of an
altar, never mind what may chance to be thereon, whether its own sacred
things or those of others. Half the words in the book are quaint,
grotesque phrasings of two ideas--ideas which most people on our side of
the water are hardly inclined to joke about: one is the idea of death,
and the other the frailty or falseness of women. One is specially struck
by the wealth of words and the sameness of ideas, and, above all, by the
quickwittedness that must belong to the people who can all catch a
verbal allusion or suggestion as Anglo-Saxons might a plump, square hit.
Sometimes a little unconscious pathos mingles with the mocking vein, for
courage is moving when it is light-hearted. When a Frenchman tells you
he has eaten nothing for two days, he adds, "Ca, ce n'est pas drole"
("Now, that's no joke"). "Coeur d'artichaut" (a heart like an artichoke)
is a felicitous expression for a person who has a succession of caprices
and short-lived fancies; and there is something to the point in the
satire which calls a surgical instrument "baume d'acier" (steel balm),
or in the saying which mocks the credulous faith many people vaguely
have in the efficacy of mineral waters: "Croyez cela et buvez de l'eau"
(Believe that and drink water). There is something desperately
significant in a language in which the lover who supports, protects and
is deceived is called "le dessus," and the one who is favored at his
expense "le dessous;" while the words "une femme," a woman, without
qualification, are identical with frailty, and virtue, being the
exception, demands an adjective to identify and proclaim it.

But there is something fine in the old French slang for the beginning of
a war: "La danse va commencer" (The dance is about to begin, or