were always interrupting him. On one occasion
he was made to pass the night in a slipper-bath full of water; where,
although he had all his clothes on, he declared that he nearly caught
his death of cold. Another night, in revenge, the poor fellow

--"dans le simple appareil
D'une beaute, qu'on vient d'arracher au sommeil,"

spent a number of hours contemplating the beauty of the moon on the
tiles. These adventures are pretty numerous in the memoirs of M.
Poinsinet; but the fact is, that people in France were a great deal
more philosophical in those days than the English are now, so that
Poinsinet's loves must be passed over, as not being to our taste. His
magician was a great diver, and told Poinsinet the most wonderful tales
of his two minutes' absence under water. These two minutes, he said,
lasted through a year, at least, which he spent in the company of a
naiad, more beautiful than Venus, in a palace more splendid than even
Versailles. Fired by the description, Poinsinet used to dip, and dip,
but he never was known to make any mermaid acquaintances, although he
fully believed that one day he should find such.

The invisible joke was brought to an end by Poinsinet's too great
reliance on it; for being, as we have said, of a very tender and
sanguine disposition, he one day fell in love with a lady in whose
company he dined, and whom he actually proposed to embrace; but the
fair lady, in the hurry of the moment, forgot to act up to the joke; and
instead of receiving Poinsinet's salute with calmness, grew indignant,
called him an impudent little scoundrel, and lent him a sound box on
the ear. With this slap the invisibility of Poinsinet disappeared, the
gnomes and genii left him, and he settled down into common life again,
and was hoaxed only by vulgar means.

A vast number of pages might be filled with narratives of the tricks
that were played upon him; but they resemble each other a good deal,
as may be imagined, and the chief point remarkable about them is the
wondrous faith of Poinsinet. After being introduced to the Prussian
ambassador at the Tuileries, he was presented to the Turkish envoy at
the Place Vendome, who received him in state, surrounded by the officers
of his establishment, all dressed in the smartest dresses that the
wardrobe of the Opera Comique could furnish.

As the greatest honor that could be done to him, Poinsinet was invited
to eat, and a tray was produced, on whic