"Not the least."

"The devil! It would have been very convenient if I could have sailed
with you."

"Ah, yes," said the Honourable Batulcar; "you are just about as much a
Japanese as I am a baboon, I guess. What are you dressed up like that
for?"

"One is obliged to dress as one can."

"That's a fact. You are a Frenchman, ain't you?"

"Yes; a Parisian."

"Then I suppose you know how to make grimaces?"

"Well," replied Passe-partout, somewhat vexed that his nationality
should provoke such a question. "It is true that we Frenchmen do know
how to make grimaces, but no better than Americans."

"That's so. Well, if I cannot take you as a servant I can engage you
as a clown. You see, my lad, this is how it is: in France they exhibit
foreign clowns, and in foreign countries French clowns."

"I see."

"You are pretty strong, I suppose?"

"More particularly when I get up after dinner."

"And you know how to sing?"

"Yes," replied Passe-partout, who at one time had sung in the street
concerts.

"But can you sing standing on your head with a top spinning on the
sole of your left foot, and a sword balanced on your right foot?"

"Something of that sort," replied Passe-partout, who recalled the
acrobatic performances of his youth.

"Well, that is the whole business," replied the Honourable Mr.
Batulcar.

And the engagement was ratified there and then.

At length Passe-partout had found something to do. He was engaged to
make one of a celebrated Japanese troupe. This was not a high
position, but in eight days he would be on his way to San Francisco.

The performance was advertised to commence at three o'clock, and
although Passe-partout had not rehearsed the "business," he was
obliged to form one of the human pyramid composed of the "Long-Noses
of the God Tingou." This was the great attraction, and was to close
the performance.

The house was crowded before three o'clock by people of all races,
ages, and sexes. The musicians took up their positions, and performed
vigorously on their noisy instruments.

The performance was very much the same as all acrobatic displays; but
it must be stated that the Japanese are the cleverest acrobats in the
world. One of them, with a fan and a few bits of paper, did the
butterfly and flower trick; another traced in the air with the smoke
of his pipe a compliment to the audience; another juggled with some
lighted candles which he extinguished successively as they passed his