No More Learning

Indeed, many other points
both in his appearance and demeanor might have very well sustained a
conception of that nature. Over his left ear, he carried, after the
fashion of a modern clerk, an instrument resembling the stylus of the
ancients. In a breast-pocket of his coat appeared conspicuously a
small black volume fastened with clasps of steel. This book, whether
accidentally or not, was so turned outwardly from the person as to
discover the words "Rituel Catholique" in white letters upon the back.
His entire physiognomy was interestingly saturnine--even cadaverously
pale. The forehead was lofty, and deeply furrowed with the ridges
of contemplation. The corners of the mouth were drawn down into an
expression of the most submissive humility. There was also a clasping of
the hands, as he stepped toward our hero--a deep sigh--and altogether a
look of such utter sanctity as could not have failed to be unequivocally
preposessing. Every shadow of anger faded from the countenance of
the metaphysician, as, having completed a satisfactory survey of his
visiter's person, he shook him cordially by the hand, and conducted him
to a seat.

There would however be a radical error in attributing this instantaneous
transition of feeling in the philosopher, to any one of those causes
which might naturally be supposed to have had an influence. Indeed,
Pierre Bon-Bon, from what I have been able to understand of his
disposition, was of all men the least likely to be imposed upon by any
speciousness of exterior deportment. It was impossible that so accurate
an observer of men and things should have failed to discover, upon the
moment, the real character of the personage who had thus intruded upon
his hospitality. To say no more, the conformation of his visiter's feet
was sufficiently remarkable--he maintained lightly upon his head an
inordinately tall hat--there was a tremulous swelling about the hinder
part of his breeches--and the vibration of his coat tail was a palpable
fact. Judge, then, with what feelings of satisfaction our hero found
himself thrown thus at once into the society of a person for whom he had
at all times entertained the most unqualified respect. He was, however,
too much of the diplomatist to let escape him any intimation of his
suspicions in regard to the true state of affairs.
It was not his cue to
appear at all conscious of the high honor he thus unexpectedly enjoyed;
but, by leading his guest into the conversation, to elicit some
important ethical ideas, which might, in obtaining a place in his
contemplated publication, enlighten the human race, and at the same time
immortalize himself--ideas which, I should have added, his visitor's
great age, and well-known proficiency in the science of morals, might
very well have enabled him to afford.

Actuated by these enlightened views, our hero bade the gentleman sit
down, while he himself took occasion to throw some fagots upon the fire,
and place upon the now re-established table some bottles of Mousseux.
Having quickly completed these operations, he drew his chair vis-a-vis
to his companion's, and waited until the latter should open the
conversation. But plans even the most skilfully matured are often
thwarted in the outset of their application--and the restaurateur found
himself nonplussed by the very first words of his visiter's speech.

"I see you know me, Bon-Bon," said he; "ha! ha! ha! --he! he! he! --hi!
hi! hi! --ho! ho! ho!