introduced me amongst them in these terms, "I bring you a murderer of
the parts of speech; understand him if you can."

They immediately flocked about me, and I was accosted with salutations
of _Landsman_ and _Meinheer_ without end. During this reception, I
looked out for the cooper of Livry.

[He meets with him.]

"Mossié, Mossié," I said, addressing the prisoner, who seemed to think
I said Moiselet, "Mossié Fine Hapit, (not knowing his name, I so
designated him, because his coat was the colour of flesh,) sacrement,
ter teufle, no tongue to me; yer François, I miseraple, I trink vine;
faut trink for gelt, plack vine."

I pointed to his hat, which was black; he did not understand me; but
on making a gesture that I wanted to drink, he found me perfectly
intelligible. All the buttons of my great coat were twenty-franc
pieces; I gave him one: he asked if they had brought the wine, and
soon afterwards I heard a turnkey say,

"Father Moiselet, I have taken up two bottles for you." The
flesh-coloured coat was then Moiselet. I followed him into his room,
and we began to drink with all our might. Two other bottles arrived;
we only went on in couples. Moiselet, in his capacity of chorister,
cooper, sexton, &c. &c. was no less a sot than gossip; he got tipsy
with great good-will, and incessantly spoke to me in the jargon I had
assumed.

Matters progressed well; after two or three hours such as these I