ood heavens! How tedious it is, to
have to go with bare head every evening, and to curl one's wig every
morning!"

SIXTH EPOCH.--The wig allows certain white hairs to escape; it is put on
awry and the observer perceives on the back of your neck a white line,
which contrasts with the deep tints pushed back by the collar of your
coat.

SEVENTH EPOCH.--Your wig is as scraggy as dog's tooth grass; and--excuse
the expression--you are making fun of your wig.

"Sir," said one of the most powerful feminine intelligences which have
condescended to enlighten me on some of the most obscure passages in my
book, "what do you mean by this wig?"

"Madame," I answered, "when a man falls into a mood of indifference with
regard to his wig, he is,--he is--what your husband probably is not."

"But my husband is not--" (she paused and thought for a moment). "He is
not amiable; he is not--well, he is not--of an even temper; he is not--"

"Then, madame, he would doubtless be indifferent to his wig!"

We looked at each other, she with a well-assumed air of dignity, I with
a suppressed smile.

"I see," said I, "that we must pay special respect to the ears of the
little sex, for they are the only chaste things about them."

I assumed the attitude of a man who has something of importance to
disclose, and the fair dame lowered her eyes, as if she had some reason
to blush.

"Madame, in these days a minister is not hanged, as once upon a time,
for saying yes or no; a Chateaubriand would scarcely torture Francoise
de Foix, and we wear no longer at our side a long sword ready to avenge
an insult. Now in a century when civilization has made such rapid
progress, when we can learn a science in twenty-four lessons, everything
must follow this race after perfection. We can no longer speak the
manly, rude, coarse language of our ancestors. The age in which are
fabricated such fine, such brilliant stuffs, such elegant furniture, and
when are made such rich porcelains, must needs be the age of periphrase
and circumlocution. We must try, therefore, to coin a new word in place
of the comic expression which Moliere used; since the language of this
great man, as a contemporary author has said, is too free for ladies who
find gauze too thick for their garments. But people of the world
know, as well as the learned, how the Greeks had an innate taste for
mysteries. That poetic nation knew well how to invest with the tints
of fable the antique traditions