Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 442 | Page 5

money of the Republic is a grave one.'
'Who should know that better than I?' promptly replied Delessert. 'The paper-money of our glorious Republic is of inestimable value; but the fact is, Citizen Destouches, I have a weakness, I confess it, for coined money--argent m��tallique. In case of fire, for instance, it'----
'It is very remarkable,' interrupted the notary with increasing sternness--'it is very remarkable, Pierre' (Pierre was an influential member of the Salut Public), 'that the instant a man becomes a landed proprietor, he betrays symptoms of incivisme: is discovered to be, in fact, an aristocq at heart.'
'I an aristocq!' exclaimed Delessert, turning very pale; 'you are jesting, surely. See, I take these admirable assignats--three thousand francs' worth at ten per cent.--with the greatest pleasure. Oh, never mind counting among friends.'
'Pardon!' replied Destouches, with rigid scrupulosity. 'It is necessary to be extremely cautious in matters of business. Deducting thirty francs for the bond, you will, I think, find your money correct; but count yourself.'
Delessert pretended to do so, but the rage in his heart so caused his eyes to dance and dazzle, and his hands to shake, that he could scarcely see the figures on the assignats, or separate one from the other. He bundled them up at last, crammed them into his pocket, and hurried off, with a sickly smile upon his face, and maledictions, which found fierce utterance as soon as he had reached a safe distance, trembling on his tongue.
'Sc��l��rat! coquin!' he savagely muttered. 'Ten per cent. for this moonshine money! I only wish---- But never mind, what's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. I must try and buy in the same way that I have been so charmingly sold.'
Earnestly meditating this equitable process, Citizen Delessert sought his friend Jean Souday, who lived close by the Foss�� des Tanneurs (Tanners' Ditch.) Jean had a somewhat ancient mare to dispose of, which our landed proprietor thought might answer his purpose. Cocotte was a slight waif, sheared off by the sharp axe of the Place de la R��volution, and Souday could therefore afford to sell her cheap. Fifty francs argent m��tallique would, Delessert knew, purchase her; but with assignats, it was quite another affair. But, courage! He might surely play the notary's game with his friend Souday: that could not be so difficult.
'You have no use for Cocotte,' suggested Delessert modestly, after exchanging fraternal salutations with his friend.
'Such an animal is always useful,' promptly answered Madame Souday, a sharp, notable little woman, with a vinegar aspect.
'To be sure--to be sure! And what price do you put upon this useful animal?'
'Cela d��pend'---- replied Jean, with an interrogative glance at his helpmate.
'Yes, as Jean says, that depends--entirely depends'---- responded the wife.
'Upon what, citoyenne?'
'Upon what is offered, parbleu! We are in no hurry to part with Cocotte; but money is tempting.'
'Well, then, suppose we say, between friends, fifty francs?'
'Fifty francs! That is very little; besides, I do not know that I shall part with Cocotte at all.'
'Come, come; be reasonable. Sixty francs! Is it a bargain?'
Jean still shook his head. 'Tempt him with the actual sight of the money,' confidentially suggested Madame Souday; 'that is the only way to strike a bargain with my husband.'
Delessert preferred increasing his offer to this advice, and gradually advanced to 100 francs, without in the least softening Jean Souday's obduracy. The possessor of the assignats was fain, at last, to adopt Madame Souday's iterated counsel, and placed 120 paper francs before the owner of Cocotte. The husband and wife instantly, as silently, exchanged with each other, by the only electric telegraph then in use, the words: 'I thought so.'
'This is charming money, friend Delessert,' said Jean Souday; 'far more precious to an enlightened mind than the barbarous coin stamped with effigies of kings and queens of the ancien r��gime. It is very tempting; still, I do not think I can part with Cocotte at any price.'
Poor Delessert ground his teeth with rage, but the expression of his anger would avail nothing; and, yielding to hard necessity, he at length, after much wrangling, became the purchaser of the old mare for 250 francs--in assignats. We give this as a specimen of the bargains effected by the owner of Les Pr��s with his borrowed capital, and as affording a key to the bitter hatred he from that day cherished towards the notary, by whom he had, as he conceived, been so egregiously duped. Towards evening, he entered a wine-shop in the suburb of Robertsau, drank freely, and talked still more so, fatigue and vexation having rendered him both thirsty and bold. Destouches, he assured everybody that would listen to him, was a robber--a villain--a vampire blood-sucker, and he, Delessert, would be amply revenged on him some fine day. Had the loquacious orator been eulogising some one's