'Brodo, manzo, vitello?' asked the garçon.

Ah, oui, oui, sì, sì, Brodo, manzo, vitello!' responded Monsieur Cacofogo, without comprehending what he was saying.

He jumped out of bed; but, while making his toilette, a distressing thought crossed his brain-he had spent his last five francs at Hyères, and he was at that moment money less. His empty purse lay extended on the marble chimney-piece. Monsieur Cacofogo broke out into the following soliloquy, the only thing that he could do gratis just at that

moment.

'What a sorry, shabby figure,' said he, 'I am destined to cut when the garçon brings me the reckoning! And I cannot explain my situa tion, or justify my penny less condition; for I am utterly ignorant of the language of the country. Courage, Monsieur Cacofogo, soyez homme de probité avant tout! Say, like our own pink of chivalry, the gallant Francis, "All is lost, save honour!!" No! sooner die of hunger than touch a morsel of a breakfast you cannot pay for!!!'

As Monsieur Cacofogo formed this heroical resolve, the garçon entered with a breakfast which a German would have styled sehr appe titlich; but the virtuous artist refused it with a resolute waive of the hand.

Bring me,' said he, a good violincello,-un gran violini,—una cosa che fa così,' and to make the garçon better comprehend the nature of his want, Monsieur Cacofogo drew out his ramrod, seated him self astride a chair, with his face to the back; and with his chin resting on its back, he began scraping away as though he were working on his favourite instrument.

'Ah!' said the garçon, I understand-una bassa cantante! un violoncello! ce n'è uno nell' osteria!'

The garçon disappeared, and shortly after came back with a violincello, and with a profound bow handed it to Monsieur Cacofogo. Monsieur Cacofogo was enchanted; he welcomed it as one would welcome an old friend in a strange land. It is by no means certain that he did not kiss it.

'Now,' said he, with a melancholy cast of countenance, let us forget all horrors of starvation and misery in our deep worship of the arts, let us breakfast on an air of Mehul!'

He adjusted the strings of the instrument, was delighted with the tones, and began preluding with one of the finest passages of Spontini's

• Vestal.'

Come,' said he, after this essay, 'now for a morsel from Mehuldivine Mehul!—the grand air, "Vainement Pharaon."'

He played to a marvel. The fine, full, mellow tones of the instru ment sounded along the corridor, down the stairs, and reached the ravished ears of the inhabitants of the Aigle Noir at Nice. They left off their occupations, rushed up the staircase, and thronged the corri dor. When Monsieur Cacofogo finished, he was greeted with rapturous applause. Fame circulated through the town that Apollo had crossed the Var in the shape of Monsieur Cacofogo of Marseilles, and ere a couple of hours had elapsed a dozen sonnets had been composed to his glory, all beginning with O Febo Francese della musica Dio! Apollo, however, had not yet broken his fast.

reve

The maître d'hôtel now entered, with many most profound rences, and, with a vast number of apologies, presumed to ask Monsieur Cacofogo if he would condescend to give a concert (composed of his

individual services) in the grande salle of the auberge, at two francs a-head. The artist seized upon the happy idea.

I have not the slightest objection,' said he. me directly, and get your salle in readiness. gain anything by it?'

'You may announce But do you think I shall

'I'll warrant,' answered mine host, 'the receipt of fifty crowns.' 'Good,' said the artist. Announce me at once,-and don't forget to send up at once also un bon déjeuné.'

Monsieur Cacofogo enjoyed the smoking viands like an emperor, and set about his programme.

Serenade de Montano et Stephanie.

LA CHASSE DU JEUNE HENRI.

L'OISEAU INCONNU, NOCTURNE AVEC VARIATIONS.

Quand on fut toujours vertueuse, &c.
Vainement Pharaon.

NICE, MIA NICE, ADDIO, DEDIE AUX AMATEURS DE NICE
PAR M. CACOFOGO, ARTISTE DE MARSEILLES.

The landlord was enchanted with the programme, and, with a profound bow, he hoped that the Aigle Noir would be honoured for some time by so distinguished a guest.

Oh, no!' said the artist; I wish to take my departure the very moment after the concert.'

Has his excellency no affairs to detain him in our beautiful Nice?'

⚫ None whatever. I wish to get as speedily as possible to Marseilles.'

Ah! you are most fortunate,' said the aubergiste. 'To-morrow morning the Vierge des Sept Douleurs leaves for Toulon. It's a splendid brig-sails like a swallow-fine equipage-and the captain is every inch a sailor. You will have a pleasant sail.'

'Capital!' chuckled the artist.

'Secure a berth on board La

Vierge. How long shall we be making the voyage?'

4

No time at all,' replied the other.

You will reach Toulon in

the evening. At this season the wind is always favourable.' 'Delightful!' again chuckled the artist.

I have long wished to

see Toulon. I arrived at Hyères without passing through Toulon. I was out sporting-I pursued a bird-ah! curse it!'

And the artist's teeth sounded as though the bird's unfortunate bones were being crushed between them.

The concert was somewhat flat, which was not to be wondered at, considering its unique attractions; but it brought in two hundred francs. The artist kept one half for his own expenses, and gave the other to the servants of the hotel. His munificence excited the intensest admiration. On the following morning the Sainte Vierge des Sept Douleurs set sail with the artist as passenger.

Mon

It was a lovely morning, as often happens on leaving port,-the waves danced and sparkled with the rays of the cloudless sun. sieur Cacofogo kept upon deck, and abandoned himself to the luxury of the moment. Presently he heard a formidable oath from the lips of the Captain. 'Sacré tonnerre d'Anglais!' claimed the Captain,

Monsieur Cacofogo sprang up, fumbled for his spectacles, fancying that he could see better with them across his nose, and looked in the same direction with the Captain.

'Four-five-six-seven frigates-the English-everywhere the English!' vociferated the Captain, stamping and swearing.

And do you really think, Captain, they will make prisoners of us?' demanded the horror-stricken Monsieur Cacofogo.

Certainly not,' replied the Captain, turning savagely upon him. 'Well, there's some comfort in that, however,' sighed forth the artist.

Certainly not,' continued the Captain; they shall never take us. I am going to light my pipe, and fire the powder-casks. The fishes shall make a meal, rather than those English make prisoners of us.'

'Oh! but listen-listen, dear Captain,' said Monsieur Cacofogo, in his most wheedling manner.

'Well!' bawled the Captain, I do listen. What then?'

'Well then-well then,-think, my dear Captain, of the very rash act you are about to commit,-think of your own poor children,—that you are the respectable father of a family,-think of your own beautiful and accomplished wife-think

Hold your gammon !' growled the Captain; 'I'm a bachelor.' Then then, think of my poor nephews and nieces-fifteen of them orphans,-left to my charge-think-think

Think-think, you d-d old catgut scraper! Do you think that I will allow my brig to be taken a prize, and myself and crew to be made prisoners?

'But, my dear Captain, now don't be in a passion!'

Then hold your tongue; sneak into a corner; down on your marrow-bones and say your prayers. Hollo there! bring me my pipe!'

The morning mist had cleared away, and there stood full in view the formidable British fleet.

This is all on account of my love of sporting,' ejaculated the frightened Monsieur Cacofogo,-all on account of a pitiful, sneaking little bird, not worth a liard, and too cowardly to let me have a fair shot at him!'

A boat-full of English ready for boarding now was seen skimming rapidly along the surface of the water like a ravenous open-jawed alligator after its prey.

Oh! oh! oh!' groaned forth the musician, with uplifted hands, and tone of abject supplication, steer about, Captain, and return to Nice!'

'If you dare to say another word,' bawled the furious Captain, I'll have that carcase of yours chucked overboard!'

At that instant the ship's bell sounded with a horrid clash. "Who has sounded the bell?' asked the Captain.

The enemy's shot has carried it fairly away!' answered the helmsman, with a knowing grin.

Monsieur Cacofogo sank into a corner, covering his face with his ample hands.

The balls now rattled about the brig in a quick discharge, and the boarding-party was within musket-shot.

'Now, my lads,—now's your time!' bawled the Captain; 'take

to your guns and handspikes,' and a volley was at once poured into the boat.

Famous!' shouted the helmsman.

'Now-now-you d--d fiddler!' exclaimed the Captain, as he saw the crouching figure of Monsieur Cacofogo. Where's your gun, you cowardly lubber! I thought you had a gun when you came on board? Go and get it at once, and do your duty like a man, if you possess the

heart of a tom-tit.'

Monsieur Cacofogo rose, with a deep groan, and with considerable difficulty scrambled down in search of his fowling-piece. There it was, in one corner of the cabin. He took hold of it; but just at that moment he heard the deafening cheer of the sailors above. His courage did not ooze out, like Bob Acres', but it came out in a whirlwind, like steam through a safety-valve. He determined to stay where he was,-jumped into a hammock, recommended his soul to God, and covered his head with a blanket!

After every violent excitement a reaction naturally takes place. Monsieur Cacofogo lost all sense and feeling under the consciousness of personal freedom from the shots and balls which were flying above; he gradually lapsed into obliviousness, and at length fell into a heavy sleep. His dreams were an odd jumble. Among other exploits, however, he thought he had winged a cassowary, and was in full pursuit of a giraffe! How long he slept he was utterly ignorant; but he awoke amidst profound darkness, and began to doubt whether he was still a member of this world or the other. Presently he heard a footstep not far from him.

Who's that?' demanded Monsieur Cacofogo, in slow sepulchral

tones.

Hollo!' exclaimed the rough voice of the Captain, 'you cowardly old mountebank! Come, up with you! stir your stumps, for here we

are, fairly in port!'

Monsieur Cacofogo jumped up in a trice.

In port?' said he,-in port? The Holy Virgin be praised, that has had such tender care of her namesake! And he felt his way along, till he reached the ladder, and once more stood upon the deck. Then, sidling up to the steersman, he observed that the Vierge des Sept Douleurs had had a narrow escape.

You may say that, Master Musician,' replied the old seaman; 'we may thank the sudden storm that we are not now prisoners, and our fine brig a prize!'

Ah! ah!' observed Monsieur Cacofogo to himself; 'we have then had a storm?'

And, indeed, a storm had suddenly burst upon the brig and fleet, and separated them. Everybody has surely heard that the Mediterranean is the most treacherous sea in the universe. Monsieur Cacofogo, as in duty bound, devoutly recited his Salve Regina, and sought out his fowling-piece.

In a minute after, as he was lightened of all luggage, he jumped into a small boat, and was quickly planted once more on terra firma. He rubbed his hands, and chuckled with satisfaction.

'Here then,' said he, I am at last at Toulon, ten leagues from Marseilles. Now, then, for a good inn, and a comfortable bed. Allons! allons! Monsieur Cacofogo, bon train et toujours-courage!"

He saw a respectable auberge, and rang the bell. The half-drowsy

garçon showed him into a room, yawned, placed the candle on a table, and, without a word, vanished.

Ah!' observed the weary artist, this is always the way when you do not travel in state. Here I am, without luggage, and I am denied bare civility.'

He awoke betimes, dressed, rang for the garçon, threw down a fivefranc piece with great scorn, and, imitating the taciturnity of the waiter, took his fowling-piece under his arm, and marched out of the house. Monsieur Cacofogo was astonished at the fine streets, and the dimensions of the town.

'I ought,' said he, to visit the arsenal; everybody does who comes to Toulon. But,' added he, it may detain me too long. The main point is to get to Marseilles before nightfall. So I must push forward,'

He accordingly approached several calèches on the public stand, the drivers of which were conversing together in a group, and asked, in French, which carriage was going to Marseilles. One of the coachmen nodded his head, and pointed to his carriage, in which three travellers had been already installed. The man had evidently been waiting for

a fourth.

'Ah,' said Monsieur Cacofogo, ensconcing himself into the fourth place, my good fortune has at length returned, but not before it ought to do so. Since yesterday, however, I have had a run of good luck. He then most politely saluted his three companions, and with his blandest smile demanded of his vis-à-vis whether he was of opinion that they should at an early hour arrive at their point of destination. Alle venti tre,' answered the person addressed.

'Alle venti tre! Monsieur is, I perceive, an Italian? Signor, Italiano? Signor, sì.

From Nice?'- Di Firenze-de Florence!'

'De Florence !—che Diavolo! Monsieur is a long way from his home. And may I, monsieur,' said the artist, addressing himself to the second, venture to ask you from what place you are? It strikes me that I have had the pleasure of meeting with monsieur before. Is he from Marseilles?'

'Signor, no-sono di Livorno!

Ah, monsieur is from Leghorn. I am not acquainted with Leghorn.'

'And I,' said the third,' am from Pisa.'

Well, this is strange,' observed Monsieur Cacofogo, with a goodnatured laugh. Here we are, three Italians and one Frenchman, all going to Marseilles.'

I speak a little French,' said the Pisan.

So much the better,' observed the artist; and I understand a little of Italian, though I cannot speak it; and if I can be of any use to Monsieur at Marseilles, he, I hope, will command my services.'

The Italian acknowledged the offer with a profound bow.

'Oh, monsieur, I am sure you would do as much for me in Italy. It is very embarrassing for any one to be in a strange place,' added the artist somewhat sententiously, and then asked if the Pisan had ever visited Marseilles.'

'Non, monsieur.'

Ah, you will see a fine city, and a charming country. Do you visit Marseilles for business or pleasure?'

'I am not going to Marseilles, but to Florence.