“Pardon, my friend,” said he, “what are you doing there?”
“You shall hear, monsieur,” replied Aristide, clutching the drumsticks.
“For the love of Heaven!” cried the other hastily interrupting. “Tell me what are you doing?”
“I am crying the loss of a bracelet, monsieur!”
“But who are you?”
“I am Aristide Pujol, and I play the drum, kettle-drum, triangle, cymbals, castagnettes and tambourine in the orchestra of the Tournée Gulland. And now, in my turn, may I ask to whom I have the honour of speaking?”
“I am the Mayor of Perpignan.”
Aristide raised his hat politely. “I hope to have the pleasure,” said he, “of Monsieur le Maire’s better acquaintance.”
The Mayor, attracted by the rascal’s guileless mockery, laughed.
“You will, my friend, if you go on playing that drum. You are not the Town Crier.”