MY VOCATION. 185 



a pleasant adventure which brought in its train, beeves, sheep 

 and tapirs, commodities easily turned into money, and that, 

 easier still could be turned into drink, to furnish a gay 

 debauch in which, 



" Many a wassail bout 

 Wore the long night out." 



In an Arab killed or taken captive (he had but a small fancy 

 for taking prisoners), my noble friends saw, not only the 

 horse and gun, but the burnous and the saddle. If by chance 

 it was a chief, then the affair was glorious, and the liba- 

 tions of the conqueror so much the more copious and fre- 

 quent, were prolonged indefinitely to the great joy of all his 

 merry drinking comrades. 



One evening Rousselet was spinning out one from his bud- 

 get of anecdotes that I had known by heart for a long time, 

 but to which his habitual auditors, Messires Ott, Block and 

 others, listened each time with renewed pleasure, by reason 

 of the accompaniments, always full of interest for their Dutch 

 guzzles, that were the drier the more they drank. 



He, rolling out the story with his full ringing voice, told 

 how the chief of a company of flying Arabs was soon over- 

 hauled by his brave war horse. In less time than t would 

 have taken to empty a bottle, he (Rousselet) was by his side, 

 and drove a bullet through his brain. In a*moment he had 

 dismounted to take possession of the prize, a horse worth five 

 hundred francs, a gun worth one hundred francs, and a saddle 

 and burnous which were worth as much more. 



" But didn't you zee," interupted Block, " whats "moneys 

 hes has in his pocket ?" 



