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CHAP. XXXIX.
When we arrived at the chaise-vamper's house, both the house and the shop were shut up; it was the eighth of September, the nativity of the blessed Virgin Mary, mother of God—
—Tantarra—ra—tan—tivi—the whole world was going out a May-poling—frisking here—capering there—no body cared a button for me or my remarks; so I sat me down upon a bench by the door, philosophating upon my condition: by a better fate than usually attends me, I had not waited half an hour, when the mistress came in, to take the papilliotes from off her hair, before she went to the May-poles———
The French women, by the bye, love May-poles, a la folie—that is, as much astheir
