e?"

"The stone, madam, undoubtedly."

Everyone laughed except the thoughtless young beauty, who did not take
any notice of it. Towards the end of the dinner, someone spoke of the
rhinoceros, which was then shewn for twenty-four sous at the St.
Germain's Fair.

"Let us go and see it!" was the cry.

We got into the carriages, and reached the fair. We took several turns
before we could find the place. I was the only gentleman; I was taking
care of two ladies in the midst of the crowd, and the witty marquise was
walking in front of us. At the end of the alley where we had been told
that we would find the animal, there was a man placed to receive the
money of the visitors. It is true that the man, dressed in the African
fashion, was very dark and enormously stout, yet he had a human and very
masculine form, and the beautiful marquise had no business to make a
mistake. Nevertheless, the thoughtless young creature went up straight to
him and said,

"Are you the rhinoceros, sir?"

"Go in, madam, go in."

We were dying with laughing; and the marquise, when she had seen the
animal, thought herself bound to apologize to the master; assuring him
that she had never seen a rhinoceros in her life, and therefore he could
not feel offended if she had made a mistake.

One evening I was in the foyer of the Italian Comedy, where between the
acts the highest noblemen were in the habit of coming, in order to
converse and joke with the actresses who used to sit there waiting for
their turn to appear on the stage, and I was seated near Camille,
Coraline's sister, whom I amused by making love to her. A young
councillor, who objected to my occupying Camille's attention, being a
very conceited fellow, attacked me upon some remark I made respecting an
Italian play, and took the liberty of shewing his bad temper by
criticizing my native country. I was answering him in an indirect way,
looking all the time at Camille, who was laughing. Everybody had
congregated around us and was attentive to the discussion, which, being
carried on as an assault of wit, had nothing to make it unpleasant.

But it seemed to take a serious turn when the young fop, turning the
conversation on the police of the city, said that for some time it had
been dangerous to walk alone at night through the streets of Paris.

"During the last month," he added, "the Place de Greve has seen the
hanging of seven men, among whom there were five Italians. An
extraordinary c