But this state of things, it will perhaps be urged, may arise from the scarcity of game in France, as probably as from the sportsman's want of skill. True; but the worst is to come. After you have duly admired and examined snipe, pigeon, quail, and water-hen, your friend again rummages in the depths of his gibecière, and pulls out—what?—a handful of tomtits and linnets, which he has been picking off every hedge for five miles round. "Je me suis rabattu sur le petit gibier," he says, with a grin and a shrug, and walks away, a proud man and a happy, leaving you in admiration of his prowess.
M. Dumas expresses a wish to make the acquaintance of one of these modern Nimrods, and his friend Méry arranges a supper, to which he invites a certain Monsieur Louet, who plays the fourth bass in the orchestra of the Marseilles theatre. The conversation after supper is a good specimen of persiflage. After doing ample justice to an excellent repast, during which he had scarcely uttered a word,
"Monsieur Louet threw himself back in his chair and looked at us all, one after the other, as if he had only just become aware of our presence, accompanying his inspection with a smile of the most perfect benevolence; then, heaving a gentle sigh of satisfaction—'Ma foi! I have made a capital supper!' exclaimed he.
"'M. Louet! A cigar?' cried Méry: 'It is good for the digestion.'
"'Thank you, most illustrious poet!' answered M. Louet; 'I never smoke. It was not the fashion in my time. Smoking and boots were introduced by the Cossacks. I always wear shoes, and am faithful to my snuff-box.'
"So saying, M. Louet produced his box, and offered it round. We all refused except Méry, who, wishing to flatter him, attacked his weak side.
"'What delicious snuff, M. Louet! This cannot be the common French snuff?'
"'Indeed it is—only I doctor it in a particular manner. It is a secret I learned from a cardinal when I was at Rome.'
"'Ha! You have been to Rome?' cried I.
"'Yes, sir; I passed twenty years there.'