Three good giants

CHAPTER XXVII. WHAT SORT OF MAN PANURGE WAS, AND THE MANY TRICKS HE KNEW.

THE new friend and attendant of Panta-gruel was, as has already been seen, a man of good presence, neither too tall nor too short. His nose was a fine aquiline, so fine and sharp, indeed, that its curve was said by even his best friends to look for all the world like the blade of a razor. He was thirty-five years old, or thereabout, and was the gayest, maddest, most reckless roisterer that gay, mad, reckless, roistering Paris had ever welcomed within her walls. His purse never knew what it was to be full. For, although he had, as he was fond of boasting, as many as sixty-three different ways of getting money, he always had two hundred and fourteen different ways of spending it. The fact is, Panurge had as many cunning ways as a monkey, and could have taught the wisest and grayest old monkey in the forest tricks of which he, in his simplicity, had never once dreamed. He made it a point never to go abroad without having a flask of good wine and a fat, juicy slice of bacon hidden away under his gown, saying, ''These are my body-guard. I have no other sword." But if he had one special weakness, it was the bitter hatred he bore against the sergeants and the city-watch of Paris. Of course, these little eccentricities all came out in time, and so became gradually known to Pantagruel, who often frowned on them, but could not, for the life of him, each time he heard of a new prank, help shaking the houses within a mile around, with the rumble of his hearty laughter.

It was one favorite custom of Panurge to gather three or four good fellows, and make them drink like Templars toward nightfall, when he would lead them to the high ground just above the church St. Genevieve, or near the college of Navarre, about the hour the city-watch were taking their rounds on the low ground below. He could always make sure of the hour of the guard by laying a sword down on the pavement, with his ear very close to it; and when he would hear the sword hum, he knew that the watch were coming. As soon

PANURGE GETS MONET.

as he had made sure of that, he and his companion would begin to push one of the dirt-carts, always about there, with all their strength, into the hollow, where it would come tumbling down on the unhappy watch, who, by that time, had just reached the spot, setting them to rolling and knocking about in the dust like so many swine. Of course, the party would then scamper off in a hurry, as Panurge — who, besides having a mortal dread of blows, was a born coward — had, after two days, learned to know every street, crossing, lane, and alley in Paris.

Another time he would drop along some good, level place where the unlucky watch were obliged to pass, a long train of powder, and, then, after finding a safe hiding-place, when they had come, he would fire the train at his end, lau^h a loud laugh while he watched their antics in scurrying away, thinking all the time that good St. Anthony was tugging away at their legs. Now, Panurge was a very wise man, but, in spite of all his learning, he dearly loved to plague those whom he ought certainly to have most respected, — I mean the Masters of Arts and the students of the Universities. Whenever he would meet one of these on the street, he was sure to do him some mischief, such as pinning to his back little fox-tails, hare's ears, or some such roguery.

Another great delight of Panurge was keeping a whip under his gown, with which he used to lash, until his very arm ached, such pages as he found carrying wine to their masters. He used to say it was to make them go faster, and he was sure their masters would thank him for it.

Another was to carry in his coat more than twenty-and-six little fobs and pockets, which were always full, — one of a little lead-water-, another of a little blade sharpened like a glover's needle, with which, I am ashamed to say, Panurge used to cut purses; another of some bitter stuff, which he used to throw in the eyes of everybody he met; and still others of a mixture which he would throw upon the dresses and bonnets of good people, walking peaceably and soberly in the streets.

Another trick was slily to fasten people together by little hooks, which he always kept in his pocket, and to laugh till he grew black in the face, on seeing how, in trying to get loose, they only tore their clothes to rags.

Another was to provide himself with two or three looking-glasses, and, by shifting them here and there in his hand from a distance, throw the fierce light straight into the eyes of men and women, who would get half-crazy trying to find out where their sudden blindness came from.

Still another trick — and this was a very mean one — he used to play with a small vial filled with the oldest and most rancid oil he could find. Whenever he met a woman dressed as fine as a peacock, he would come up, saying: (f Why, here's a fine cloth, or a fine satin, or a fine taffety," as the case might be. :t Madam, may Heaven grant you whatever your noble heart might wish for! You have there a new dress. Heaven keep it long for you, fair dame ! " While the rogue was saying all these fine words, he would, of course, be placing his hand on the collar or the shoulder of the lady, and smearing it all over with his vile oil, and leaving a spot which could never be scrubbed out. Then he would make his prettiest bow, and smile his sweetest smile, saying: "My dear Madam, let me beg you to be very careful about here, because there is a large and muddy hole just before you, and you might soil your beautiful dress."

At another time he would carry a box filled with a well-powdered sneezing-gum, into which he would put a handsome broidered handkerchief that he had stolen on the way from a pretty seamstress of the Palace. He would go looking about for some fine ladies, and whenever he would meet them, with a great show of reverence, he would take out his scented handkerchief, and, on pretence of showing its beauty, flirt it quickly before their noses, at which the fine ladies would sneeze for four hours without stopping.

Then Panurge would make a lower and more respectful bow than ever, and go away to the nearest corner to have a quiet laugh by himself.

PANURGE'S FUN.