When Joseph has retired from business, he begins to dream of honors. The words Town Counselor, District Counselor, and Mayor, are pleasing to his ear, inasmuch as these honorable posts enable their holders to wear uniforms. And Joseph has a decided weakness for uniforms and gold braid. A sword specially; a sword adds an inch or two to his stature.

He is fond of making sounding phrases, and his signature is a masterpiece of inimitable calligraphy.

His game of predilection is dominoes. When he plays at loto, he never fails to add, after announcing the number seven, la pipe à Thomas.

When he sends twenty francs to his boy, he scrupulously seals the envelope in five places, and stares incredulously, if you tell him that the English often stuff a bundle of banknotes into their letters, and do not take the trouble to register them.

He has the name of being a Republican. I am willing to believe him one, since he now votes for the Republic; but it is less from profound conviction than from the dread of hearing that barricades are being erected in Paris, that he votes for the government of the day. "Beati possidentes!" he cries, there is nothing like tranquillity.

He is administered to his heart's content.

He belongs to a little town, administered by a mayor, two deputy-mayors, and a municipal council; his little town forms part of an arrondissement, administered by a sub-prefect and a council of arrondissement; his arrondissement forms part of a department, administered by a prefect, a council of prefecture, and a general council; his department forms part of France, administered by a President of the Republic, a ministerial council, a council of state, a Senate, and a Chamber of Deputies. Add to this, the general council of agriculture, the general council of commerce, the council of manufactures, the council of mines, the council of roads and bridges, the council general of prisons, the council of war, the council of finance, the council of the navy, the council of prud'hommes, the board of health, and a hundred others, and you will see that, if Joseph pays taxes, he has the satisfaction of knowing that he is counseled abundantly.

His accounts are kept by an administration that "all Europe envies," and carried to the fourth decimal, a luxury which costs him a good fourth of his revenue in personnel and red tape, but which on the other hand saves the Treasury at least one dollar per annum. The centimes column is guaranteed exact by every French clerk; this ought to console Joseph for the little errors which may exist in the column of the millions. In a ministerial office, a mistake of a centime puts the whole staff in commotion, from the ground floor to the roof, and if a clerk were to propose to replace the centime out of his own pocket, and thus set matters right, he would be looked upon as a dangerous man, and his career would be blasted, unless, indeed, the affair should make some noise, in which case he might see himself provided with a seat in the Chamber of Deputies.