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moralized upon my new profession And thou should'st have laughed and moralized on-Trust me, my dear Eugenius, I should have said, " There are “worse occupations in this world, than feeling a wo66 man's pulse."

-But a Grisset's ! thou wouldt have said and in an open shop! Yorick

So much the better; for when my views are direct, Eugenius, I care not if all the world saw me feel it.

I had counted twenty pulsations, and was going on fast towards the fortieth, when her husband coming unexpected from a back parlour into the shop, put me a little out of my reckoning -'Twas nobody but her husband, she faid, -so. I began a fresh score--Monfieur is so good, quoth the, as he pafled by us, to give bimself the trouble of feeling my pulfe-The husband took off his hat, and making me a bow, said I did him too much honour and having said that, he put on his hat and walked out.

Good God! said I to myself, as he went out and can this man be the husband of this woman?

Let it not torment the few who know what must have been the grounds of this exclamation, if I explain it to those who do not.

In London, a fhop-keeper and a flop-keeper's wife seem to be one bone and one flesh : in the several endowments of mind and body, sometimes the one, sometimes the other has it, fo as in general to be upon a par, and to tally with each other as nearly as man and wife ne

to do.

In Paris, there are scarce two orders of beings more different : for the legislative and executive powers of the shop not resting in the husband, he feldom comes there in some dark and dismal room behind, he fits, commercelefs, in his thrum night-cap; the fame rough son of Nature that Nature left him.

The genius of a people where nothing but the monarchy is falique, having ceded this department, with sundry others, totally to the women-by a con. tinual higgling with customers of all ranks and sizes. from morning, to night, like so many rough pebbles fhook long together in a bag, by amicable collifions they have worn down their afperities and sharp angles, and not only become round and smooth, but will receive, fome of them, a polish like a brilliant Monfieur 'L: Mari is little better than the stone under

your foot.

-Surely -furely, man! it is not good for thee to fit alone, thou wast made for social intercourse and gentle greetings ; and this improvement of our ; natures from it, I appeal to as my evidence.

And how does it beat, Monsieur faid the. With all the benignity, said I, looking quietly in her eyes, that I expected-She was going to say something civil in return--but the lad came into the shop with the gloves--A propos, fàid I, I want a couple of pair. myself.

The beautiful Grisset rose up when I said this, and going behind the counter, reached down a parcel and ! untied it: I advanced to the side over-against her ;

they were all too large. The beautiful Grisset measured them one by one across my hand-It would not alter the dimensionsShe begged I would try a single pair, which seemed to be least. She held it open-my hand flipped into it at once. It will not do, said I, thaking my head a little-No, said the, doing the same thing.

There are certain combined looks of fimple subtlety where whim, and fenfe, and seriousness, and nonsense are so blended, that all the languages of Babel set loose together could not express them--they are communicated and caught fo instantaneously, that you can scarce say which party is the infector. I leave it to your men of words to swell pages about it it is enough in the present to say again, the gloves would not do ; so folding our hands within our arms, we both lollid upon

the counter-it was narrow, and there was jaft room for the parcel to lie between us.

The beautiful Griffet looked sometimes at the gloves, then fideways to the window, then at the gloves--and then at me. I was not disposed to break filence— followed her example. So I looked at the gloves, then to the window, then at the gloves, and then at her, and so on alternately.

I found I lost considerably in every attack-she had a quick black eye, and shot through two fuch long and filken eye-lashes with such penetration, that the looked into my very heart and reins-It may feem strange, but I could actually feel she did

Do you

It is no matter, said I, taking up a couple of the pairs next me, and putting them into my pocket.

I was sensible the beautiful Griffet had not alk'd above a fingle livre above the price-I wish'd she had ask'd a livre more; and was puzzling my brains how to bring the matter about

think,

my

dear Sir, said the, mistaking my embarrassment, that I could ask a fous too much of a stranger--and of a stranger whose politeness, more than his want of gloves, has done me the honour to lay himself at my mercy?-M'en croyez capable ? Faith! not I, faid 1; and if your were, you are welcome-So counting the money into her hand, and with a lower bow than one generally makes to a shopkeeper's wife, I went out, and her lad with his parcel followed me.

SENT. JOURNEY, PAGE 956

THE PIE-M AN.

SEEIN

EEING a man standing with a basket on the other

fide of the street, in Versailles, as if he had something to sell, I bid La Fleur go up to him and inquire for the Count de B***'s hotel.

La Fleur returned a little pale : and told me it was a Chevalier de St. Louis selling pâtés--- It is impoflible, La Fleur ! said I.-La Fleur could no more account for the phenomenon than myself; but per Gifted in his

fory: he had seen the croix, see in gold, with its red ribband, he said, tied to his button-hole and had looked into his basket, and feen the pâtés which the Chevalier was selling ; so could not be mistaken in that.

Such a reverse in man's life awakens a better prin. ciple than curiofity: I could not help looking for some time at him as I sat in the remisi~the more I looked at him, his croix, and his basket, the stronger they wove themselves into my brain-I got out of the remis, and went towards him.

He was begirt with a clean linen apron which fell below his knees, and with a sort of bib which went half way up his breaft; upon

the

top of this, but a little below the hem, hung his croix. His basket of little pâtés was covered over with a white damalk napkin ; another of the same kind was spread at the bottom; and there was a look of propreté and neatness throughout; that one might have bought his pâtés of him, as much from appetite as sentiment.

He made an offer of them to neither; but stood still with them at the corner of an hotel, for those to buy who chose it, without solicitation.

He was about forty-eight-of a fedate look, fome. thing approaching to gravity. I did not wonder. I went up rather to the balket than him, and having lifted up the napkin and taken one of his pâtés into my hand- I begged he would explain the appearance which affected me.

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