Alfred; or, The Adventures of a French Gentleman — page 212: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

OF A FRENCH GENTLEMAN, iS] several sheets of paper tacked together to Mr. Clayton, who, ac- cording to the gastronomer’s wish, read as follows :— | ‘¢ Jean Beauvisage, chevalier, one share of five hundred francs, Le General Trotte-mal, one share of a thousand francs. Le Baron Feu-d’enfer, two shares of a hundred francs each. Le Comte Pousse-pain, one share of five hnndred francs. Michel Cochon, alias Leger-de-main, five shares of a hundred francs each. Mathieu Vilain, alias Le Beau, one share—but methinks, M. Champignon,”’ cried Mr. Clayton, interrupting himself in the midst of the list, ‘that these names are somewhat singular; for instance, I see a little lower down, Le Marquis de Bel-czl, alias Louche, Le Duc de Gros Nez, M. Polisson, M. Doux-doux, surnamed Le Voleur, and a host of other nomenclatures, half with high titles, and half with extraordinary alvases.” ‘“ Ah! ah! you never would suspect the wit of that,’ cried Champignon. | ‘‘ How? What do you mean? Is it possible there is a French duke named Gros Nez, ora French marquis called Bel-cil, alias Louche ? Noblemen never have aliases: and if the Chamber of Peers be formed of individuals with such droll appellations, I should think the president must indulge in an occasionally hearty laugh when calling over their names. For instance, how singular would it appear, did the Duke of Gros Nez rise and say, ‘ After the excellent remarks that have just fallen from my friend the Marquis of Bel-cil, alias Louche, in answer to the misrepresenta- tions made by the Baron Feu-d’Enfer, in reference to the amend- ment which the Count Pousse-pain is desirous of making to the bill,’ &c. &c. It is impossible, M.Champignon, that such titles can exist!” ‘‘ If they do not exist in the Chamber of Peers, I have heard them mentioned elsewhere,” said Champignon, not at all discom- fited by this attack on the veracity of his list. ‘¢ Where, in the name of God?” cried Mr. Clayton. ‘* At the galleys,”’ answered the gastronomer, drily. ‘¢ It was there you met M. De Rosann, I suppose,” exclaimed Mrs. Clayton, with a contemptuous sneer, while the unkind remark cut Eloise to the soul. Mr. Clayton noticed the effect it produced upon his niece, and hastened to get rid of Champignon, who had commenced a long explanation relative to the kindness of the con- victs in promising to become purchasers of shares, and the use he made of these names and nick-names, some of which latter were titles, to ornament his list. Mr. Clayton cut him short, by pro- mising to send his prospectuses-to De Rosann, and at length succeeded in conducting him as far as the street, where the gas- tronomer turned round, made two or three very low bows, and took his leave of Mr. Clayton with a thousand thanks for his kindness. ‘¢ Hloise, my love,” said the kind uncle, when he had once more returned to the drawing-room, ‘‘ I met this morning the interesting girl that you so particularly admired as a songstress the other day, and who sung Orlando’s Song so sweetly. She was better dressed CORNICLOOKS.CO