ux ans"); and Pogson, the wicked
young dog, who professed not to care for young misses, saying they smelt
so of bread-and-butter, declared, at once, that the lady was one of
HIS beauties; in fact, when he spoke to us about her, he said, "She's a
slap-up thing, I tell you; a reg'lar good one; ONE OF MY SORT!" And such
was Pogson's credit in all commercial rooms, that one of HIS sort was
considered to surpass all other sorts.

During dinner-time, Mr. Pogson was profoundly polite and attentive to
the lady at his side, and kindly communicated to her, as is the way with
the best-bred English on their first arrival "on the Continent," all his
impressions regarding the sights and persons he had seen. Such remarks
having been made during half an hour's ramble about the ramparts and
town, and in the course of a walk down to the custom-house, and a
confidential communication with the commissionaire, must be, doubtless,
very valuable to Frenchmen in their own country; and the lady listened
to Pogson's opinions: not only with benevolent attention, but actually,
she said, with pleasure and delight. Mr. Pogson said that there was
no such thing as good meat in France, and that's why they cooked their
victuals in this queer way; he had seen many soldiers parading about the
place, and expressed a true Englishman's abhorrence of an armed force;
not that he feared such fellows as these--little whipper-snappers--our
men would eat them. Hereupon the lady admitted that our Guards were
angels, but that Monsieur must not be too hard upon the French; "her
father was a General of the Emperor."

Pogson felt a tremendous respect for himself at the notion that he was
dining with a General's daughter, and instantly ordered a bottle of
champagne to keep up his consequence.

"Mrs. Bironn, ma'am," said he, for he had heard the waiter call her by
some such name, "if you WILL accept a glass of champagne, ma'am, you'll
do me, I'm sure, great honor: they say it's very good, and a precious
sight cheaper than it is on our side of the way, too--not that I care
for money. Mrs. Bironn, ma'am, your health, ma'am."

The lady smiled very graciously, and drank the wine.

"Har you any relation, ma'am, if I may make so bold; har you anyways
connected with the family of our immortal bard?"

"Sir, I beg your pardon."

"Don't mention it, ma'am: but BiRONN and BYron are hevidently the same
names, only you pronounce in the French way; and I thought you might be
re