96 BRIT ANN Y AND THE CHASE. 



a hall as large as a warehouse, encumbers himself with his 

 hat, whether "opera" or "gibus," to his own annoyance, 

 and not by any means to his own improvement, the afore- 

 soid " tile " being a frightful appendage, and only fit for a 

 chimney- top. 



Such is the principle of imitation, taking things as mon- 

 keys merely because they are strange to us. Look at the 

 Frenchman taking tea a Vanglaise, for instance. He takes 

 tea, not because he likes it, but because we take it, and 

 has never learnt how we take it ; therefore he places his 

 saucer on his plate ; whatever thing he takes with his tea, 

 be it sweet, savoury, solid or fluid, it is first passed through 

 a preparatory wash in the Congo. I one evening could not 

 help watching a Frenchman — a count, too, who had often 

 been in England — taking his tea ; and it was a droll process. 

 First he had marmalade on his toast, and both dipped into 

 the tea ; then a pate (we had been shooting) was equally 

 immersed and discussed; a mince-pie followed the same 

 road ; then toast, &c., and at last he poured out a glass of 

 claret, and put that in also. How much of the flavour of 

 the tea remained at last, it would be hard to say ; but I 

 should think not much. To another friend I took the 

 liberty to show the proper way, and he adopted it at once, 

 and said he had never tasted tea before, for in truth he 

 had up to that time drunk a decoction of tlie various things 

 on the table, and not tea. 



A short time since I engaged to go on an expedition of 

 wild-fowl shooting with a party of French friends. The 

 place chosen was a large creek on the coast, where it was 

 said that the birds were in masses ; but having had some 



