am penning
these lines from Blancheville, which as everybody, except the chief
of the chowder-heads, knows is the most important town of one of the
principal departments of France. Nothing but an overwhelming sense of
what is due to myself, to my readers, and to my country, would have
dragged me from the Metropolis at this season of the year. But a
distinction was offered to me, a distinction so unique and so dazzling
that I felt that it would not be fair to my fellow countrymen, of all
ages, and of every party, if I failed to take advantage of it,
and thus to present to the envious world the proud spectacle of an
Englishman honoured by the great French nation. I will narrate the
matter as briefly as is consistent with my respect for accuracy, and
with my contempt for the tapioca-brained nincompoops who snarl,
and chatter, and cackle at me in the organ of Mr. J. Last Friday I
received this telegram:--

_Blancheville, Friday._

The inhabitants of Blancheville, in public meeting assembled,
felicitate you on stupendous success of all your prophecies. Desiring
to honour you in the name of France, the mother of glorious heroes,
and the eldest daughter of Liberty, they have awarded to you the
Montyon prize for virtue, and have selected you as _Rosier en
perpetuite de Blancheville_, a new post never before held by a man.
Presentation on Sunday. Come at once.

_(Signed)_

CARAMEL, _Maire de Blancheville._

I started that evening. In the course of the following day I reached
Blancheville. The people, in their holiday attire, were gathered
in thousands at the railway station. M. CARAMEL, accompanied by the
_Prefet_ and the _Sous-Prefet,_ all in their tricolor sashes, was
the first to greet me. Saluting me on both cheeks, he called upon the
world to witness that this was indeed a great day for Blancheville. My
escort, under the command of General Count CROUTAUPOT, then formed
up. I mounted the gilded Car of Victory, specially provided for the
celebration, and, amidst the plaudits of the assembled millions, I was
drawn by a specially-selected band of _Enfants de la Patrie_ (a sort
of body-guard, composed entirely of the French aristocracy) to the
palace, which had been prepared for my reception. At the banquet, in
the Town Hall, the healths of the QUEEN and of M. CARNOT were followed
by a lengthy speech, in English, from my brother CARAMEL (we have
sworn fraternity), in which he declared that the centuries looked down
and r