CHAPTER XXIII. 



JULES FONTAINE AKD HIS FAMOUS DOG " LE 

 BEAU POLYDOKE." 



'ANY years ago the following laugh- 

 able incident took place. And to 

 anyone who understands French, 

 and French manners, the picture 

 will not, I think, appear overdrawn. I give it 

 exactly as it happened : 



I had returned from Lower Brittany, after a 

 month's very so-so sport, and had located my- 

 self at Rennes, thinking where I could next 

 wend my steps. I was sauntering down one 

 of the principal streets one fine evening in 

 October, turning over this knotty point in my 

 brain, when I ran against an acquaintance of 

 mine, one Jules Fontaine, and his famous dog, 

 "Le beau Polydore." Both were returning 

 from la chasse. 



