THE FRENCH TUTOR 203 



in the civilised haunts of men, Great Babylon, and all 

 the minor Babylons ; and should an alderman lose an old 

 pocket-handkerchief, worth perhaps half -a-cr own, the 

 P.C.'s are all on the alert to detect the audacious offender. 

 The shoe pinches. But what care these said aldermen if 

 their civic feasts are provided at the expense of their 

 country cousins ? Not a rap. In season and out of 

 season, all nature must pander to their capacious maws. 



I was once much amused by the description given me 

 by our old French Master, upon his going up to London, 

 of the adroit manner in which he was reheved of a fine 

 new bandana. It being the height of the London season, 

 Mossu (as he was called by the younger boys), having 

 obtained leave of absence from the school, set off to the 

 great metropolis for a little recreation. Frenchmen are 

 proverbially fond of theatrical exhibitions. Mossu there- 

 fore posted off one fine evening to Covent Garden, which 

 was then in great force. Marching leisurely under the 

 colonnade, he felt a pretty considerable puU at his swaUow- 

 tailed coat, then in fashion, and looking sharply round, 

 he discovered an urchin quickly handing over his fine 

 bandana to his hon. Mossu was taken aback at this 

 cool method of doing business, but rather feared an 

 encounter with this dark-looking gentleman. He there- 

 fore approached with all deference, and quietly apprized 

 him of his loss by saying, " By Gar, sare, I am pick- 

 pocketed ! " to which the other responded by thrusting 

 his ugly phiz close to Mossu's, with only the monosyllable 

 — " Ha-i-gh ! " which sent our friend to the right-abouts 

 in double quick time. 



On another occasion our old French Tutor must needs 

 pay a visit to his own country, after an absence of more 

 than twenty years, by which time he flattered himself 



