Droll Stories, vol 2 | Page 5

of the faculties, in patience and courage.
As for the soft-voiced and pretty-mouthed ones, who have whispered
delicately in the author's ear, complaining to him that they have
disarranged their tresses and spoiled their petticoats in certain places,
he would say to them, "Why did you go there?" To these remarks he is
compelled, through the notable slanders of certain people, to add a
notice to the well-disposed, in order that they may use it, and end the

calumnies of the aforesaid scribblers concerning him.
These droll tales are written--according to all authorities--at that period
when Queen Catherine, of the house of Medici, was hard at work; for,
during a great portion of the reign, she was always interfering with
public affairs to the advantage of our holy religion. The which time has
seized many people by the throat, from our defunct Master Francis, first
of that name, to the Assembly at Blois, where fell M. de Guise. Now,
even schoolboys who play at chuck-farthing, know that at this period of
insurrection, pacifications and disturbances, the language of France was
a little disturbed also, on account of the inventions of the poets, who at
that time, as at this, used each to make a language for himself, besides
the strange Greek, Latin, Italian, German, and Swiss words, foreign
phrases, and Spanish jargon, introduced by foreigners, so that a poor
writer has plenty of elbow room in this Babelish language, which has
since been taken in hand by Messieurs de Balzac, Blaise Pascal,
Furetiere, Menage, St. Evremonde, de Malherbe, and others, who first
cleaned out the French language, sent foreign words to the rightabout,
and gave the right of citizenship to legitimate words used and known
by everyone, but of which the Sieur Ronsard was ashamed.
Having finished, the author returns to his lady-love, wishing every
happiness to those by whom he is beloved; to the others misfortune
according to their deserts. When the swallows fly homeward, he will
come again, not without the third and fourth volume, which he here
promises to the Pantagruelists, merry knaves, and honest wags of all
degrees, who have a wholesome horror of the sadness, sombre
meditation and melancholy of literary croakers.

THE THREE CLERKS OF ST. NICHOLAS
The /Inn of the Three Barbels/ was formerly at Tours, the best place in
the town for sumptuous fare; and the landlord, reputed the best of
cooks, went to prepare wedding breakfasts as far as Chatelherault,
Loches, Vendome, and Blois. This said man, an old fox, perfect in his
business, never lighted lamps in the day time, knew how to skin a flint,

charged for wool, leather, and feathers, had an eye to everything, did
not easily let anyone pay with chaff instead of coin, and for a penny
less than his account would have affronted even a prince. For the rest,
he was a good banterer, drinking and laughing with his regular
customers, hat in hand always before the persons furnished with
plenary indulgences entitled /Sit nomen Domini benedictum/, running
them into expense, and proving to them, if need were, by sound
argument, that wines were dear, and that whatever they might think,
nothing was given away in Touraine, everything had to be bought, and,
at the same time, paid for. In short, if he could without disgrace have
done so, he would have reckoned so much for the good air, and so
much for the view of the country. Thus he built up a tidy fortune with
other people's money, became as round as a butt, larded with fat, and
was called Monsieur. At the time of the last fair three young fellows,
who were apprentices in knavery, in whom there was more of the
material that makes thieves than saints, and who knew just how far it
was possible to go without catching their necks in the branches of trees,
made up their minds to amuse themselves, and live well, condemning
certain hawkers or others in all the expenses. Now these limbs of Satan
gave the slip to their masters, under whom they had been studying the
art of parchment scrawling, and came to stay at the hotel of the Three
Barbels, where they demanded the best rooms, turned the place inside
out, turned up their noses at everything, bespoke all the lampreys in the
market, and announced themselves as first-class merchants, who never
carried their goods with them, and travelled only with their persons.
The host bustled about, turned the spits, and prepared a glorious repast,
for these three dodgers, who had already made noise enough for a
hundred crowns, and who most certainly would not even have given up
the copper coins which one of them was jingling in his pocket. But if
they were hard up for money they did not want