“CERTAINLY,” said Professor Granarius, one evening while seated beneath his limes, “nothing is more curious than the conduct of Jarpeado. In truth, if the French followed his example, we should have no need of codes, mandates, sermons, or social gatherings, for the advancement of mankind. Nothing proves more conclusively that reason alone—the attribute of which men are so proud—is the prime cause of all the evils of Society.”
[*] The distinguished animal to whom we owe this history—designed to show that the creatures so boldly named stupid by men, and in reality superior to human beings—desires to remain anonymous. It may nevertheless be said, that he is a creature who held a very high place in the affections of Miss Anna Granarius, and that he belongs to the sect of reasoning animals, for whose members she had the greatest esteem.—ED.
Miss Anna Granarius, who was devotedly attached to a poor student, could not help blushing deeply, for her skin was fair and delicate. Anna was the typical heroine of a Scotch novel, the profound depths of her blue eyes almost betokening “Second-sight.” By the candid and caught look of the professor, she perceived he had said one of those foolish things which frequently fall from the lips of scientific dreamers. Leaving her father to follow out his dream on the depravity of human reason, she bent her steps to a favourite spot in the Jardin des Plantes which was closed for the night, as the month was July and the hour half-past eight.
“What does my father mean to say about this Jarpeado who turns his head?” she inwardly inquired, seating herself outside a hothouse. Pretty Anna remained pensively rooted to the seat, while her father, absorbed in his own thoughts, never missed her presence. The maiden was endowed with a highly strung nervous temperament which, had she lived four hundred years ago, would have brought her to the stake in the Place de Grève. But happily for her, she was born in more enlightened times.
II.
That which Prince Jarpeado found most extraordinary in Paris, was himself, like the dodge of Gênes at Versailles. He was undoubtedly a fine fellow, though small, remarkable for the classic beauty of his features. His legs might have been doubtful, a trifle or so bandy, but they were encased in boots garnished with precious stones and fixed up on three sides a la poulaine. On his back, as was the usage of Castraine, in his country, he carried a cape which cast into the shade those worn by the ecclesiastics of Charles X. It was covered with aberesques of diamonds on a ground of lapis-lazuli, divided into two equal parts like the two flaps of a trunk. These flaps were fastened by a gold clasp, and displayed like the priestly surplice, in token of dignity, for he was prince of Coccirubri. He wore a pretty necklace of sapphire and two aigrettes infinitely finer than any of the feathers in the caps of European potentates worn on State occasions.
Anna thought him charming, only his two arms were rather short and slender for embracing. This slight defect, however, was carried off by the rich carnation of his royal blood. Anna soon found out what her father meant, by witnessing one of those mysterious things which pass unnoticed in this terrible Paris, at once so full and so empty, so foolish and so wise, so preoccupied and so much on the alert, yet always so fantastic.
III.
The three thousand windows of this glass palace exchanged glances of moonlight so bright that the edifice seemed glowing at a white heat, ablaze with the fire, kindled by the rising orb which so frequently deceives the traveller. The cactus was breathing forth a store of strange odour, the vanilla its sweet perfume. The volcaneria distilled the vinous heat from its tufts, the jessamine exhaled a poetic fragrance, the magnolia intoxicated the air, while the aroma of the datura advanced with the pomp of a Persian king, and the powerful Chinese lily sent her breath onward with an overpowering force that assimilated all the other odours of the flowery scene.
The perfume-laden air stood motionless to feast upon the spectacle presented by a troop of midnight spirits, as they rose from an enchanted spot shaded by a grove of bananas, whose wide-spreading leaves formed a canopy gilded by a phosphorescent light. Soft streams of music floated around, gently awakening the spirits to their nocturnal revels. Suddenly the lights fell on a patch of green cactus, revealing the gay form of Prince Jarpeado exposed to the witchery of the fairy queen and her gorgeous attendants, robed in costumes so aërial as to disclose the full charms of their lovely forms. Phantom-Crickets sang love-ditties in the daintiest retreats, while a choir of winged musicians chanted the praises of the prince, who stood unmoved by the seductive art of this witching band. The passion-imbued glance of the queen fell, shivered against the armour of Jarpeado’s true heart, where, enshrined in all its artless purity, he treasured the image of the fair Anna. The music ceased, and in a silvery voice the queen, radiant with an unearthly beauty, exclaimed—