About the year 1760, there lived, at Paris, a little fellow, who was the darling of all the wags of his acquaintance.Nature seemed, in the formation of this little man, to have amused herself, by giving loose to half a hundred of her most comical caprices.He had some wit and drollery of his own, which sometimes rendered his sallies very amusing; but, where his friends laughed with him once, they laughed at him a thousand times, for he had a fund of absurdity in himself that was more pleasant than all the wit in the world.He was as proud as a peacock, as wicked as an ape, and as silly as a goose.He did not possess one single grain of common sense; but, in revenge, his pretensions were enormous, his ignorance vast, and his credulity more extensive still.From his youth upwards, he had read nothing but the new novels, and the verses in the almanacs, which helped him not a little in ******, what he called, poetry of his own; for, of course, our little hero was a poet.All the common usages of life, all the ways of the world, and all the customs of society, seemed to be quite unknown to him; add to these good qualities, a magnificent conceit, a cowardice inconceivable, and a face so irresistibly comic, that every one who first beheld it was compelled to burst out a-laughing, and you will have some notion of this strange little gentleman.He was very proud of his voice, and uttered all his sentences in the richest tragic tone.He was little better than a dwarf; but he elevated his eyebrows, held up his neck, walked on the tips of his toes, and gave himself the airs of a giant.He had a little pair of bandy legs, which seemed much too short to support anything like a human body; but, by the help of these crooked supporters, he thought he could dance like a Grace; and, indeed, fancied all the graces possible were to be found in his person.
His goggle eyes were always rolling about wildly, as if in correspondence with the disorder of his little brain and his countenance thus wore an expression of perpetual wonder.With such happy natural gifts, he not only fell into all traps that were laid for him, but seemed almost to go out of his way to seek them;although, to be sure, his friends did not give him much trouble in that search, for they prepared hoaxes for him incessantly.
One day the wags introduced him to a company of ladies, who, though not countesses and princesses exactly, took, nevertheless, those titles upon themselves for the nonce; and were all, for the same reason, violently smitten with Master Poinsinet's person.One of them, the lady of the house, was especially tender; and, seating him by her side at supper, so plied him with smiles, ogles, and champagne, that our little hero grew crazed with ecstasy, and wild with love.In the midst of his happiness, a cruel knock was heard below, accompanied by quick loud talking, swearing, and shuffling of feet: you would have thought a regiment was at the door."Oh heavens!" cried the marchioness, starting up, and giving to the hand of Poinsinet one parting squeeze; "fly--fly, my Poinsinet:
'tis the colonel--my husband!" At this, each gentleman of the party rose, and, drawing his rapier, vowed to cut his way through the colonel and all his mousquetaires, or die, if need be, by the side of Poinsinet.
The little fellow was obliged to lug out his sword too, and went shuddering down stairs, heartily repenting of his passion for marchionesses.When the party arrived in the street, they found, sure enough, a dreadful company of mousquetaires, as they seemed, ready to oppose their passage.Swords crossed,--torches blazed;and, with the most dreadful shouts and imprecations, the contending parties rushed upon one another; the friends of Poinsinet surrounding and supporting that little warrior, as the French knights did King Francis at Pavia, otherwise the poor fellow certainly would have fallen down in the gutter from fright.
But the combat was suddenly interrupted; for the neighbors, who knew nothing of the trick going on, and thought the brawl was real, had been screaming with all their might for the police, who began about this time to arrive.Directly they appeared, friends and enemies of Poinsinet at once took to their heels; and, in THISpart of the transaction, at least, our hero himself showed that he was equal to the longest-legged grenadier that ever ran away.
When, at last, those little bandy legs of his had borne him safely to his lodgings, all Poinsinet's friends crowded round him, to congratulate him on his escape and his valor.
"Egad, how he pinked that great red-haired fellow!" said one.
"No; did I?" said Poinsinet.
"Did you? Psha! don't try to play the modest, and humbug US; you know you did.I suppose you will say, next, that you were not for three minutes point to point with Cartentierce himself, the most dreadful swordsman of the army.""Why, you see," says Poinsinet, quite delighted, "it was so dark that I did not know with whom I was engaged; although, corbleu, IDID FOR one or two of the fellows." And after a little more of such conversation, during which he was fully persuaded that he had done for a dozen of the enemy at least, Poinsinet went to bed, his little person trembling with fright and pleasure; and he fell asleep, and dreamed of rescuing ladies, and destroying monsters, like a second Amadis de Gaul.
When he awoke in the morning, he found a party of his friends in his room: one was examining his coat and waistcoat; another was casting many curious glances at his inexpressibles."Look here!"said this gentleman, holding up the garment to the light; "one--two--three gashes! I am hanged if the cowards did not aim at Poinsinet's legs! There are four holes in the sword arm of his coat, and seven have gone right through coat and waistcoat.Good heaven! Poinsinet, have you had a surgeon to your wounds?""Wounds!" said the little man, springing up, "I don't know--that is, I hope--that is--O Lord! O Lord! I hope I'm not wounded!" and, after a proper examination, he discovered he was not.