young gentleman "from de contree" to that of the civilised dweller in the gayest city in Europe. Monsieur was an artist, and not a barbarian like the barber of Barham.
The first thought of Mr. Bouncer, as he gazed upon the mirrored reflection, was, "Well! Mossoo has been and gone and done it, and no mistake! it is a regular Newgate crop!"—an idea that would have scandalised the professor of the scissors. It was, therefore, quite as well that the little gentleman kept his thoughts to him self. The deed was done, and he could not undo it. His hair was cropped; and not all the hair restoratives in Mossoo's shop could make it grow again, with a mustard-and-cress celerity, so that it might resume its usual length and appearance before he presented himself to the admiring gaze of his mother and sister. He must make the best of a bad bargain; so, by pantomimic action, he signified to Mossoo that he approved of his work, and he held out to him half a crown, in order that he might give him what change he thought proper.
Then he proceeded to the dog-dealing business that he had in view; and, in order to make himself more intelligible, framed his question in broken English—"How much you sell little dog, eh?" while Alphonse frisked about, and stood on his hind legs, and went through all his little performances, as though he would say—See what a clever dog I am, and don't insult my feelings by offering a small sum for a poodle of intellect.
It is not, by any means, an easy matter to negotiate a transaction, when the terms of the bargain have to be debated in broken English, greatly assisted, it is true, by
