he pockets of
his trousers, and, standing near me in an attitude of perpendicular
solidity, begin a monologue something as follows:

"What a Sunday, my boy! Positively no fatigue can lay me up. Think of
it: yesterday was the regatta at Joinville-le-Pont; at six o'clock in
the morning the rendezvous at Bercy, at The Mariners, for the crew of
the _Marsouin_; the sun is up; a glass of white wine and we jump into
our rowing suits, seize an oar and give way--one-two, one-two--as far as
Joinville; then overboard for a swim before breakfast--strip to swimming
drawers, a jump overboard, and look out for squalls. After my bath I
have the appetite of a tiger. Good! I seize the boat by one hand and I
call out, 'Charpentier, pass me a small ham.' Three motions in one time
and I have finished it to the bone. 'Charpentier, pass me the
brandy-flask.' Three swallows and it is empty."

[Illustration]

So the description would continue--dazzling, Homeric.

"It is the hour for the regatta--noon--the sun just overhead. The boats
draw up in line on the sparkling river, before a tent gaudy with
streamers. On the bank the mayor with his staff of office, gendarmes in
yellow shoulder-belts, and a swarm of summer dresses, open parasols, and
straw hats. Bang! the signal-gun is fired. The _Marsouin_ shoots ahead
of all her competitors and easily gains the prize--and no fatigue! We go
around Marne, and, returning, dine at Creteil. How cool the evening in
the dusky arbor, where pipes glow through the darkness, and moths singe
their wings in the flame of the _omelette au kirsch_. At the end of a
dessert, served on decorated plates, we hear from the ball-room the call
of the cornet--'Take places for the quadrille!' But already a rival
crew, beaten that same morning, has monopolized the prettiest girls. A
fight!--teeth broken, eyes blackened, ugly falls, and whacks below the
belt; in a word, a poem of physical enthusiasm, of noisy hilarity, of
animal spirits, without speaking of the return at midnight, through
crowded stations, with girls whom we lift into the cars, friends
separated calling from one end of the train to the other, and fellows
playing a horn upon the roof."

And the evenings of my astonishing companion were not less full of
adventure than his Sundays. Collar-and-elbow wrestling in a tent, under
the red light of torches, between him--simple amateur--and Du Bois, the
iron man, in person; rat-chases near the mouths of sewers, with dog