y," announced the lady.

"Thank you, God!"

If the Italian went into ecstasies over this irreverent trifling,
Delsarte did not disdain to caricature it, and gave us a most comical
little performance. Here again we see how he could transform everything,
and make something out of nothing!

Among the frequenters of his lectures was an artist whom I would gladly
mention for his talent if I did not fear to annoy him by connecting his
name with an incident concerning him. I relate it in the hope of
somewhat diverting my readers, to whom I must so often discourse of
serious things.

Mr. P. painted a portrait of Delsarte as a young man. The features are
exact, the pose firm and dignified, the eye proud. The painter and the
model were on very good terms and sympathized in religious matters. It
must have been the master who brought him over. He still burned with the
zeal peculiar to recent converts; to such a point that even on a short
excursion into the country, he could not await his return to Paris to
approach the stool of repentance. This desire seemed easily satisfied;
what village is without a father confessor!

So, one fine day, the artist rang at the first parsonage he could find.
The priest's sister opened the door--offered him a seat--and told him
that her brother was away. But, after these preliminaries, the lady
seemed uneasy. She inquired what the stranger wanted.

"To speak with the priest."

What could this stranger have to say to him? Such was the question which
floated in her eyes, amidst the confused phrases in which she strove to
gain an explanation. Mr. P. finally told her that he had come to
confess.

"My brother will not return till very late," said the poor girl, unable
to disguise her distress.

"I will wait!" replied the traveler.

"Oh, sir, I hope you will not!"

He thought he heard her mutter: "We read such things in the papers!"

The visitor at last perceived that she took him for a thief, and he
could not depart quickly enough.

One more anecdote:

Francois Delsarte called himself a bad citizen, because he disliked to
undertake the duties entailed by reason of the national guard--a dignity
long demanded by the advanced party of the day, but of which they soon
wearied.

I think that the artist's infractions were often overlooked, and his
reasons for exemption were never too closely scanned. And yet, the
soldier-citizen was one day arraigned before a council of discipline,
which, wi