sou, not a lion, nothing to show for it save a
camel!

"Tarascon! Tarascon!"

He was obliged to get down.

O amazement!

Scarce had the hero's red fez popped out of the doorway before a loud
shout of "Tartarin for ever!" made the glazed roof of the railway
station tremble. "Long life to Tartarin, the lion-slayer!" And out burst
the windings of horns and the choruses of the local musical societies.

Tartarin felt death had come: he believed in a hoax. But, no! all
Tarascon was there, waving their hats, all of the same way of thinking.
Behold the brave Commandant Bravida, Costecalde the armourer, the
Chief Judge, the chemist, and the whole noble corps of cap-poppers, who
pressed around their leader, and carried him in triumph out through the
passages.

Singular effects of the mirage!--the hide of the blind lion sent to
Bravida was the cause of all this riot. With that humble fur exhibited
in the club-room, the Tarasconians, and, at the back of them, the whole
South of France, had grown exalted. The Semaphore newspaper had spoken
of it. A drama had been invented. It was not merely a solitary lion
which Tartarin had slain, but ten, nay, twenty--pooh! a herd of lions
had been made marmalade of. Hence, on disembarking at Marseilles,
Tartarin was already celebrated without being aware of it, and an
enthusiastic telegram had gone on before him by two hours to his native
place.

But what capped the climax of the popular gladness was to see a
fancifully shaped animal, covered with foam and dust, appear behind the
hero, and stumble down the station stairs.

Tarascon for an instant believed that its dragon was come again.

Tartarin set his fellow-citizens at ease.

"This is my camel," he said.

Already feeling the influence of the splendid sun of Tarascon, which
makes people tell "bouncers" unwittingly, he added, as he fondled the
camel's hump:

"It is a noble beast! It saw me kill all my lions!"

Whereupon he familiarly took the arm of the commandant, who was red
with pleasure; and followed by his camel, surrounded by the cap-hunters,
acclaimed by all the population, he placidly proceeded towards the
Baobab Villa; and, on the march, thus commenced the account of his
mighty hunting:

"Once upon an evening, you are to imagine that, out in the depths of the
Sahara"--

APPENDIX

Obituary of Alphonse Daudet.

17th December 1897
DEATH OF A FRENCH NOVELIST.