ng his fist on the table, "Monsieur Varin!" cried he, "do not
cross your thumbs at me, or I will cut them off! Let me tell you the
gentlemen of Beauce do not breakfast on gaping, but have plenty of corn
to stuff even a Commissary of Montreal!"

The Sieur Le Mercier, at a sign from Bigot, interposed to stop the
rising quarrel. "Don't mind Varin," said he, whispering to De Beauce;
"he is drunk, and a row will anger the Intendant. Wait, and by and by
you shall toast Varin as the chief baker of Pharoah, who got hanged
because he stole the King's corn."

"As he deserves to be, for his insult to the gentlemen of Beauce,"
insinuated Bigot, leaning over to his angry guest, at the same time
winking good-humoredly to Varin. "Come, now, De Beauce, friends all,
amantium irae, you know--which is Latin for love--and I will sing you
a stave in praise of this good wine, which is better than Bacchus ever
drank." The Intendant rose up, and holding a brimming glass in his hand,
chanted in full, musical voice a favorite ditty of the day, as a ready
mode of restoring harmony among the company:

"'Amis! dans ma bouteille,
Voila le vin de France!
C'est le bon vin qui danse ici,
C'est le bon vin qui danse.
Gai lon la!
Vive la lirette!
Des Filettes
Il y en aura!'

Vivent les Filettes! The girls of Quebec--first in beauty, last in love,
and nowhere in scorn of a gallant worthy of them!" continued Bigot.
"What say you, De Pean? Are you not prepared to toast the belles of
Quebec?"

"That I am, your Excellency!" De Pean was unsteady upon his feet, as he
rose to respond to the Intendant's challenge. He pot-valiantly drew his
sword, and laid it on the table. "I will call on the honorable company
to drink this toast on their knees, and there is my sword to cut the
legs off any gentleman who will not kneel down and drink a full cup to
the bright eyes of the belle of Quebec--The incomparable Angelique des
Meloises!"

The toast suited their mood. Every one filled up his cup in honor of a
beauty so universally admired.

"Kneel down, all," cried the Intendant, "or De Pean will hamstring us!"
All knelt down with a clash--some of them unable to rise again. "We will
drink to the Angelique charms of the fair Des Meloises. Come now, all
together!--as the jolly Dutchmen of Albany say, 'Upp seys over!'"

Such of the company as were able resumed t