Punch, or the London Charivari | Page 5

wife's
decision as final, but he had a consuming passion for _crêpes_, and was
moreover a diplomat.
"_La vie chère!_" he said sadly; "it cuts at the very vitals of hospitality.
With what pleasure I could have presented myself to our amiable
neighbours, the Sergeant-Major Coghlan and his estimable wife, and
said, 'It is the custom in France for all the world to eat _crêpes_ on
Mardi Gras. Accept these, then, made by Madame Bonneton herself,
who in the making of this national delicacy is an incomparable artist.'
But when eggs are twelve francs the dozen"--he shook his head
gloomily--"generous sentiments must perish."
Madame perceptibly softened.
"Perhaps, after all, I might persuade that miser Dobelle to sell me a few
at ten francs the dozen," she murmured; and M'sieur knew that
diplomacy had won another notable victory.
Curiously enough, at this precise moment the tenants of the _premier
étage_ of 10 bis, rue de la République, were also engaged in a
gastronomic discussion.
"If almanacs in France count as they do in Aldershot," said Mrs.
Coghlan, "to-morrow will be Shrove Tuesday."
"An' what av it?" demanded Sergeant-Major Coghlan of the British
Army.
"What of it? As though ye'd not been dreaming of pancakes this

fortnight an' more past--fearful to mention thim an' fearful lest I should
forget. Well, well, if ye'll bring a good flour ration in the marning I'll
do me best."
"I've been thinking, Peggy lass," said the gratified Sergeant-Major, "it
wud be the polite thing to make a few for thim dacent people on the
ground-flure. I'll wager they've niver seen th' taste av' a pancake in this
country."
Thus it was that when Hippolyte Larivière, the cornet-player of the
Palais de Cinéma, ascended the stairs to his eerie on the top-floor of 10
bis the following evening the appetising odour of frying batter
enveloped him as a garment. He sniffed appreciatively.
"Le gros Bonneton can eat _crêpes_ freely without considering the
effect on his temperament," he said. "One sometimes regrets the
demands of Art."
Outside the Coghlans' door another idea struck him. "The essence of a
present lies not in its value but its appropriateness. A few _crêpes_ on
Mardi Gras would be a novel acknowledgment to the Sergeant-Major
of his liberality in the way of cigarettes. At present my case is empty."
Retracing his steps he went to the Café aux Gourmets and persuaded
the _propriétaire_ to prepare half-a-dozen _crêpes_ with all possible
speed and send them piping-hot to his room in exchange for a promise
of his influence in getting her on the free list of the Cinema. Then, in a
glow of virtue, he returned to prepare his toilette for the evening
performance.
It was while Hippolyte was dabbing his cheeks with a damp towel that
M'sieur Bonneton and Sergeant-Major Coghlan, having comfortably
satisfied their respective appetites with _crêpes_ and pancakes,
proceeded to call upon each other, bearing gifts. The dignity of the
presentations was impaired by the fact that they almost collided on the
stairs.
"Mrs. Coghlan wud like your opinion on these pancakes," said the

Sergeant- Major, dexterously fielding one that was sliding from the
plate.
"And permit me to beg your acceptance of these _crêpes_, a dish
peculiar to France and eaten as a matter of custom on Mardi Gras," said
M'sieur in his most correct English, producing his plate with a flourish
worthy of a head-waiter.
"'Tis with all the pleasure in life we'll be tasting thim--" commenced
Coghlan. Then his eye fell on the dish and his voice dropped. M'sieur
was also showing signs of embarrassment.
"It seems _crêpes_ is but another name for pancakes," said the
Sergeant- Major heavily, after a pause.
"But yes--and I am already filled to repletion."
"We've aiten our fill too, Peggy an' me, an' they're spoilt whin they're
cowld. It's severely disappointed Peggy will be to find thim wasted."
"And Madame will be desolated to despair."
They stared blankly at each other for a few minutes. Then M'sieur took
a heroic resolve.
"We must not hurt the feelings of those excellent women," he said
firmly. "There is but one course open to us."
Coghlan nodded assent. Solemnly and without enthusiasm they sat on
the stairs and consumed the pancakes to the last crumb. Then,
leaden-eyed and breathing hard, they took their empty plates and
entered their respective flats.
A few minutes later they again encountered on the stairs. Once more
they were laden with comestibles.
"For Monsieur Larivière," explained M'sieur. "Madame insisted. She
has a heart of gold, that woman."

"Peggy's sending these up too," said the Sergeant-Major. "I towld her
thim pancakes was the greatest surprise you iver tasted."
M'sieur nodded. In response to Hippolyte's invitation they entered the
room, and M'sieur took command of the conversation. The
Sergeant-Major stood stiffly to attention, feeling