here; and all that my auditors have to
do is, to listen and obey." Arriving at his destined stopping-place, his
carriage halted. His servant handed him a case from which he took
several large portraits of himself, which he hung prominently upon the
sides of his carriage, and also placed in front of him a vase filled
with medals bearing his likeness on one side and a description of his
pencils on the other. He then leisurely commenced a change of costume.
His round hat was displaced by a magnificent burnished helmet, mounted
with rich plumes of various brilliant colors. His overcoat was laid
aside, and he donned in its stead a costly velvet tunic with gold
fringes. He then drew a pair of polished steel gauntlets upon his hands,
covered his breast with a brilliant cuirass, and placed a richly-mounted
sword at his side. His servant watched him closely, and upon receiving a
sign from his master, he too put on his official costume, which
consisted of a velvet robe and a helmet. The servant then struck up a
tune on the richly-toned organ which always formed a part of Mangin's
outfit. The grotesque appearance of these individuals, and the music,
soon drew together an admiring crowd.

Then the great charlatan stood upon his feet. His manner was calm,
dignified, imposing, indeed almost solemn, for his face was as serious
as that of the chief mourner at a funeral. His sharp, intelligent eye
scrutinized the throng which was pressing around his carriage, until it
rested apparently upon some particular individual, when he gave a start;
then, with a dark, angry expression, as if the sight was repulsive, he
abruptly dropped the visor of his helmet and thus covered his face from
the gaze of the anxious crowd. This bit of coquetry produced the desired
effect in whetting the appetite of the multitude, who were impatiently
waiting to hear him speak. When he had carried this kind of by-play as
far as he thought the audience would bear it, he raised his hand, and
his servant understanding the sign, stopped the organ. Mangin then rang
a small bell, stepped forward to the front of the carriage, gave a
slight cough indicative of a preparation to speak, opened his mouth, but
instantly giving a more fearful start and assuming a more sudden frown
than before, he took his seat as if quite overcome by some unpleasant
object which his eyes had rested upon. Thus far he had not spoken a
word. At last the prelude ended, and the comedy commenced. Steppin