o subscribe to the
laws of the country, I ought to have come here and given my name and that
of the young person that--with whom--

"Oh! that is going too far! I came here for that purpose, contemptible
creatures, not three weeks ago!"

Then, taking up myself the civil register, and turning over the pages
rapidly, I found my signature and beside it the little hieroglyphics
drawn by Chrysantheme:

"There, idiots, look at that!"

Arrival of a very high functionary--a ridiculous little old fellow in a
black coat, who from his office had been listening to the row:

"What is the matter? What is it? What is this annoyance put upon the
French officers?"

I state my case politely to this personage, who can not make apologies
and promises enough. The little agents prostrate themselves on all fours,
sink into the earth; and we leave them, cold and dignified, without
returning their bows.

M. Sucre and Madame Prune may now make their minds easy; they will not be
disturbed again.

CHAPTER XXXI

BUTTERFLIES AND BEETLES

August 23d.

The prolonged sojourn of the Triomphante in the dock, and the distance of
our dwelling from the town, have been my excuse these last two or three
days for not going up to Diou-djen-dji to see Chrysantheme.

It is dreary work in these docks. At early dawn a legion of little
Japanese workmen invade us, bringing their dinners in baskets and gourds
like the workingmen in our arsenals, but with a poor, shabby appearance,
and a ferreting, hurried manner which reminds one of rats. Silently they
slip under the keel, at the bottom of the hold, in all the holes, sawing,
nailing, repairing.

The heat is intense in this spot, overshadowed by the rocks and tangled
masses of foliage.

At two o'clock, in the broad sunlight, we have a new and far prettier
invasion: that of the beetles and butterflies.

There are butterflies as wonderful as those on the fans. Some, all black,
giddily dash up against us, so light and airy that they seem merely a
pair of quivering wings fastened together without any body.

Yves, astonished, gazes at them, saying, in his boyish manner: "Oh, I saw
such a big one just now, such a big one, it quite frightened me; I
thought it was a bat attacking me."

A steersman who has captured a very curious specimen carries it off
carefully to press between the leaves of his signal-book, like a flower.
Another sailor, passing by, taking his small roast to the oven in a
mess-bo