that time, had just reached the spot, setting them to rolling and knocking about in the dust like so many swine. Of course, the party would then scamper off in a hurry, as Panurge — who, besides having a mortal dread of blows, was a born coward — had, after two days, learned to know every street, crossing, lane, and alley in Paris.
Another time he would drop along some good, level place where the unlucky watch were obliged to pass, a long train of powder, and, then, after finding a safe hiding-place, when they had come, he would fire the train at his end, lau^h a loud laugh while he watched their antics in scurrying away, thinking all the time that good St. Anthony was tugging away at their legs. Now, Panurge was a very wise man, but, in spite of all his learning, he dearly loved to plague those whom he ought certainly to have most respected, — I mean the Masters of Arts and the students of the Universities. Whenever he would meet one of these on the street, he was sure to do him some mischief, such as pinning to his back little fox-tails, hare's ears, or some such roguery.
Another great delight of Panurge was keeping a whip under his gown, with which he used to lash, until his very arm ached, such pages as he found carrying wine to their masters. He used to say it was to make them go faster, and he was sure their masters would thank him for it.
Another was to carry in his coat more than twenty-and-six little fobs and pockets, which were always full, — one of a little lead-water-, another of a little blade sharpened like a glover's needle, with which, I am ashamed to say, Panurge used to cut purses; another of some bitter stuff, which he used to throw in the eyes of everybody he met; and still others of a mixture which he would throw upon the dresses and bonnets of good people, walking peaceably and soberly in the streets.
Another trick was slily to fasten people together by little hooks, which he always kept in his pocket, and to laugh till he grew black in the face, on seeing how, in trying to get loose, they only tore their clothes to rags.
Another was to provide himself with two or three looking-glasses, and, by shifting them here and there in his hand from a distance, throw the fierce light straight into the eyes of men and women, who would get half-crazy trying to find out where their sudden blindness came from.
Still another trick — and this was a very mean one — he used to play with a small vial filled with the oldest and most rancid oil he could find. Whenever he met a woman dressed as fine as a peacock, he would come up, saying: (f Why, here's a fine cloth, or a fine satin, or a fine taffety,' as the case might be. :t Madam, may Heaven grant you whatever your noble heart might wish for! You have there a new dress. Heaven keep it long for you, fair dame ! ' While the rogue was saying all these fine words, he would, of course, be placing his hand on the collar or the shoulder of the lady, and smearing it all over with his vile oil, and leaving a spot which could never be scrubbed out. Then he would make his prettiest bow, and smile his sweetest smile, saying: 'My dear Madam, let me beg you to be very careful about here, because there is a large and muddy hole just before you, and you might soil your beautiful dress.'
At another time he would carry a box filled with a well-powdered sneezing-gum, into which he would put a handsome broidered handkerchief that he had stolen on the way from a pretty seamstress of the Palace. He would go looking about for some fine ladies, and whenever he would meet them, with a great show of reverence, he would take out his scented handkerchief, and, on pretence of showing its beauty, flirt it quickly before their noses, at which the fine ladies would sneeze for four hours without stopping.
Then Panurge would make a lower and more respectful bow than ever, and go away to the nearest corner to have a quiet laugh by himself.
PANURGE'S FUN.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
SHOWING WHY THE LEAGUES ARE SO MUCH SHORTER IN FRANCE THAN IN GERMANY.
A SHORT time after the famous dispute, Pantagruel heard two very startling bits of news. One was that his father Gar-gantua had been transported to the country of the Fairies by Morgan, in the same way that she had already carried off Ogier the Dane and King Arthur. The other was that, on hearing of this, and taking advantage of it, the Dipsodes, or Thirsty people, Gargantua's neighbors, had swarmed from their fortresses and ravaged a large part of Utopia, and were even then besieging the chief city of the Amaurotes. When Pantagruel heard this bad news he boiled with rage. He left Paris without a word of good-by to anybody, for the affair called for speed. He was accompanied only by his special train, which included his master Epistemon, Panurge, Eusthenes, and Carpalim. From Paris he went to Rouen. While on the road, Pantagruel noticed that the French leagues were very short when compared with those of other countries, which he had seen in his travels. He asked Panurge how this could be. Then Panurge, who was never at fault, after turning up his long nose, told him this little story: —
'In the old days, when that fine King Pharamond reigned over France, there were no leagues, no metes, no furlongs, no recognized boundaries between different countries; nothing, in fact, to show where one country began and where another ended. That just old King resolved to make all this right. So he caused to be brought together in Paris two hundred of the brightest and prettiest girls and
PANTAGRUEL MARCHES TO ROUEN.
boys to be found in all France, whom he feasted well for eight days. After that the King called the two hundred children before him, and gave them a sum of money large enough for their expenses during a long journey. He then commanded that they should not go out by the same gate, but start away on different roads, here and there, as their fancy took them out from the city. He further told them that, wherever they should stop to play and run about in the bright sunshine, and gather flowers, or chase the beautiful butterflies, they should leave a stone there show that they had done so. 'That stone would mean, ' This is one league.'
' It was summer time in the pleasant, flowery, laughing; month of June, when the skies seem more full of blue, the fields more full of green, and the roses more full of red, than they are at any to other time, that the gentle King Pharamond had gathered these innocent children together. The whole party, with bright cheeks and merry laughter, started from Paris by one road and another. How could the children help feeling happy when the skies were so blue, the fields so green, and the roses so red, and when the butterflies would fly so near the ground, as if only too glad to be run after and caught! And then each boy and girl knew that their generous King had given them so much money that, to their simple fancies, it seemed as if they could never spend it all, try as hard as they might.
ln those bright June days, full of light, and green, and blue, they were always crying out: ' Let us stop ! Oh, let us stop to play.'
' So they used, at first, to stop at every turn of the road to skip and gambol about in the fields, to gather the pretty flowers, to chase the brilliant butterflies, to sing back to the singing-birds in the trees, and to breathe in the sweet summer air, after which, with ringing laughter and the merriest shouts, they would leave a big stone to mark the spot where they had been so happy.
* This explains, my lord,' said Panurge, making a face, ' why our leagues in France are so short.'
'* I see, I see,' said the good Pautagruel, who had fallen into deep thought.
'But the longest summer must come to an end,' Panurge went on to say. ' And when children stop at every turn of the road to play in the sun, and to run in the fields, and to pluck the flowers, and chase the butterflies, and sing with the singing-birds, they are only robbing themselves of their own glad time. For Autumn, w r ith his clouds that hide the sun, and his ugly days, and his chilly nights, must be very patient if he does not soon begin to think it high time for him to come on the scene. So it got to be quite another thing for the poor children the farther they went from Paris, because they soon found out that King Pharamond's gift, large as it was, could not last forever. The more they travelled, the worse the weather, the nearer they came to the bottom of their purse, the heavier grew the road, and the more tired their little bodies became. At last, all that the weary children prayed for was that they might reach the end of their hard journey as fast as possible. But Autumn himself was getting very old by that time, and fierce Winter, with his chilling breath, and his hands of ice, and his mantle of snow, was beginning to wonder when brother Autumn was going to give him a chance of dropping his shining mantle over field, lane, and
