This did the newspaper good. But it was not enough to have a carriage only, it wanted a responsible editor too. It was much more difficult at that period to find a responsible editor, and yet they were compelled to have one: many lawsuits were brought against newspapers, many responsible editors were thrown into prison; responsible editors, therefore, were an absolute necessity.
Ferdinand Langlé cast his eye upon a kind of dwarf named Dossion. The police of the time did not demand that a responsible editor should have a special style of figure. This Dossion was a singular person, with a red nose and a curved back and he was always mounted on his high horse. I remember we called him the drum-major of the rats of the sewers of Montmartre. You may hunt up the origin of the name if you like! I have quite forgotten what it was; but, of course, it was connected with some legend of the time, now forgotten. He had been prompter at the Vaudeville, and had done so much for good Désaugiers that he had obtained a part for him in the Arlequins, where he was Laporte's understudy; but as he was short-sighted, on the day of his first appearance he conceived the ingenious notion of putting short-sighted spectacles to his mask: only he had not thought of one thing—the heat of the theatre dimmed the glasses, with the result that, as Dossion was running after Colombine, he did not see where he was putting his foot and dis appeared down the prompter's trapdoor. Unlike roses, which only live a morning, Dossion had but lived on night. We invented a practical joke by means of which we made Dossion come on livid with anger. He had a dog of the same colour as d'Artagnan's horse, fluctuating between the shade of a jonquil and that of a buttercup. As Dossion was mortally offended, we pretended that his dog had presented a petition to the Chamber to be authorised to leave his master; but M. de Villèle's three hundred looked upon the matter as a political affair, and one of them even uttered the famous sentence—
"Anarchy is beginning to raise its head!"
Castor's petition had passed into the order of the day. The unlucky animal, compelled to remain attached to Dossion, died of ennui. I do not know whether Dossion is dead or alive: if alive, the lines I have just written are a homage rendered him; if dead, a flower which I throw on his grave.[1]
[1] See Appendix.
[CHAPTER VII]
Eugène Sue's début in journalism—l'Homme-Mouche—The merino sheep—Eugène Sue in the Navy—He takes part in the battle of Navarino—He furnishes a house—The last foil of youth—Another Fils de l'Homme—Bossange and Desforges