My other friend, Benjamin Trovato, of Italian extraction, tells me that Boulanger is half English, and had an English education. Ben informs me that the General has never forgotten the rhythms he learnt in his happy English nursery; and that, when he read that M. Ferry had called him a "St. Arnaud de Café-Concert," he sang out, recollecting the old catch,—
A Note, a Note!
Haste to the Ferry!
in which his friends were unable to join, owing to their ignorance of the words and tune.
When driving through Clermont-Ferrand from the Station up to Royat, we (three of us) had a small omnibus to ourselves. One of the party (a wag, of whom, and of the circumstances of our meeting, more "in my next") insisted on our calling out, "Vive Boulanger!" We did this several times in the most crowded parts, but the cry obtained no response, and aroused no excitement, as, being uttered with the greatest caution (at my instance), nobody heard it.
But what a thing to fight about! If duelling were an English fashion, how fruitful of "incidents" this Session would have been. How often would Mr. Tim Healy have been "out"? And Mr. De Lisle's life would have hung upon a Lisle thread!
Note for strangers about to visit Royat.—The Continental Hotel has lost a little territory, as half of what was its terrace has been returned to the present proprietor of the hotel next door, with whom we Continentals have no connection, not even "on business," it not being "the same concern" and under one management as it was last year. But what the Continental Hotel has sacrificed in domain, Monsieur Hall, our obliging landlord, has more than made up in comfort and cooking. Dr. Brandt sees his patients in a charming Villa of Flowers. The weather is lovely.