us
termed "irresponsible"--thunder and lightning! gentlemen of honor to be
termed "not responsible!" It was asserted that the nomination was made
secretly, in a private house, by two or three unauthorized harum-scarums
(that touched the very bone) who had with more caution than propriety
withheld their names. The article was headed, "The Crayfish-eaters'
Ticket." It continued further to say that, had not the publication of
this ticket been regarded as a dull hoax, it would not have been
suffered to pass for two weeks unchallenged, and that it was now high
time the universal wish should be realized in its withdrawal.

Among the earliest readers of this production was the young Madame. She
first enjoyed a quiet gleeful smile over it, and then called:

"Ninide, here, take this down to Dr. Mossy--stop." She marked the
communication heavily with her gold pencil. "No answer; he need not
return it."

About the same hour, and in a neighboring street, one of the "not
responsibles" knocked on the Villivicencio castle gate. The General
invited him into his bedroom. With a short and strictly profane harangue
the visitor produced the offensive newspaper, and was about to begin
reading, when one of those loud nasal blasts, so peculiar to the Gaul,
resounded at the gate, and another "not responsible" entered, more
excited, if possible, than the first. Several minutes were spent in
exchanging fierce sentiments and slapping the palm of the left hand
rapidly with the back of the right. Presently there was a pause for
breath.

"Alphonse, proceed to read," said the General, sitting up in bed.

"De Crayfish-eaters' Ticket"--began Alphonse; but a third rapping at the
gate interrupted him, and a third "irresponsible" re-enforced their
number, talking loudly and wildly to the waiting-man as he came up the
hall.

Finally, Alphonse read the article. Little by little the incensed
gentlemen gave it a hearing, now two words and now three, interrupting
it to rip out long, rasping maledictions, and wag their forefingers at
each other as they strode ferociously about the apartment.

As Alphonse reached the close, and dashed the paper to the floor, the
whole quartet, in terrific unison, cried for the blood of the editor.

But hereupon the General spoke with authority.

"No, Messieurs," he said, buttoning his dressing-gown, savagely, "you
shall not fight him. I forbid it--you shall not!"

"But," cried the three at once, "one of us must fight