“ By the way, Damoiselle Mahiette, what say you to our Flemish Ambassadors? Have you as fine ones at Reims?”
“ I admit,” replied Mahiette, “that it is only in Paris that such Flemings can be seen.”
“ Did you see among the embassy, that big ambassador who is a hosier?” asked Oudarde.
“ Yes,” said Mahiette. “He has the eye of a Saturn.”
“ And the big fellow whose face resembles a bare belly?” resumed Gervaise. “And the little one, with small eyes framed in red eyelids, pared down and slashed up like a thistle head?”
“’ Tis their horses that are worth seeing,” said Oudarde, “caparisoned as they are after the fashion of their country!”
“ Ah my dear,” interrupted provincial Mahiette, assuming in her turn an air of superiority, “what would you say then, if you had seen in ’61, at th
