out of his way to seek them; although,
to be sure, his friends did not give him much trouble in that search,
for they prepared hoaxes for him incessantly.

One day the wags introduced him to a company of ladies, who, though not
countesses and princesses exactly, took, nevertheless, those titles upon
themselves for the nonce; and were all, for the same reason, violently
smitten with Master Poinsinet's person. One of them, the lady of the
house, was especially tender; and, seating him by her side at supper, so
plied him with smiles, ogles, and champagne, that our little hero grew
crazed with ecstasy, and wild with love. In the midst of his happiness,
a cruel knock was heard below, accompanied by quick loud talking,
swearing, and shuffling of feet: you would have thought a regiment
was at the door. "Oh heavens!" cried the marchioness, starting up,
and giving to the hand of Poinsinet one parting squeeze; "fly--fly, my
Poinsinet: 'tis the colonel--my husband!" At this, each gentleman of the
party rose, and, drawing his rapier, vowed to cut his way through the
colonel and all his mousquetaires, or die, if need be, by the side of
Poinsinet.

The little fellow was obliged to lug out his sword too, and went
shuddering down stairs, heartily repenting of his passion for
marchionesses. When the party arrived in the street, they found, sure
enough, a dreadful company of mousquetaires, as they seemed, ready to
oppose their passage. Swords crossed,--torches blazed; and, with the
most dreadful shouts and imprecations, the contending parties rushed
upon one another; the friends of Poinsinet surrounding and supporting
that little warrior, as the French knights did King Francis at Pavia,
otherwise the poor fellow certainly would have fallen down in the gutter
from fright.

But the combat was suddenly interrupted; for the neighbors, who knew
nothing of the trick going on, and thought the brawl was real, had been
screaming with all their might for the police, who began about this time
to arrive. Directly they appeared, friends and enemies of Poinsinet
at once took to their heels; and, in THIS part of the transaction, at
least, our hero himself showed that he was equal to the longest-legged
grenadier that ever ran away.

When, at last, those little bandy legs of his had borne him safely to
his lodgings, all Poinsinet's friends crowded round him, to congratulate
him on his escape and his valor.

"Egad, how he pinked that great red-hair